And Beneath There Was Velvet
by Restina Lovebug
Summary: Rodney McKay stands before the biggest challenge of his life. Mpreg. Angst. Set in season three, some time after the episode "The Ark". Carson therefore is head MD, and Elizabeth Weir is still the leader of the Atlantis Expedition.
1. Big News

**And Beneath There Was Velvet**

**Prologue**

_He had no idea of how long he'd been kept there, inside that foul smelling, dark pit of a cell that held his sanity dangling by a thread, and his soul draining slowly- a little more, day by day._

_He could no longer divide day from night, weeks from months, he hadn't the furthest clue what so ever as of why he was kept alive._

_He had no recollection of Ronon Dex carrying him through the event horizon, no remembrance of John Sheppard screaming as he crashed on his way to the infirmary. The long hours of sleepless night that followed was lost to him, as were the tired frowns on his friends' faces every time he stirred but didn't regain consciousness._

_Slowly he awoke, from what felt like hundred years of deep slumber. He felt distant and strange within his own body, not recognising the nerves tying him together, not understanding the emotions raging through his body._

_Head spinning, he slowly tried to focus his gaze on the face hovering above him. A voice with a heavy Scottish accent washed over him like a warm summer breeze, and the stone fell from Rodney McKay's heart. He was home._

**Chapter 1 Big News**

"Sit down lad, I have something to tell yah."

"No! I refuse! You can't make me!" Rodney McKay had been called to Dr. Beckett's office for "a talk" and now he was looking frantically around for an escape way. There was no way he was to be backed into a corner by this quack and told he was about to die or something equally horrible.

"Rodney..." There it was again, that thick Scottish "_You're about to die a horrible death_" accent of Beckett's.

"No! I'm not dying! And you're not telling me!" Rodney waved a frantic index finger in Carson's face, a man who was currently staring sheepishly at him.

"Rodney, you're not dying."

"I _told_ you, Carson, I'm NOT dying! So will you please just... Uhm.. Huh?" Rodney stopped mid rant, utter confusion evident on his face.

"I'm _not_ dying?! Then why the hell do you look so serious?!" he screeched, starting to pace vigorously back and forth on the office floor.

"Rodney," Carson told him solemnly: "sit down, please." McKay shot him a stern glare before he continued his pacing; now muttering frantically under his breath. Two firm, but gentle hands placed on his shoulders finally made him stop, and Carson's deep blue eyes finally caught Rodney's attention. Maybe it was something worse than death... What ever it was, this was big!

"As you know I ran a few tests on you a while back, when you... came back to Atlantis," Carson began, as he slowly guided a very confused- looking Rodney down on a chair.

"Yeah, and except from the obvious cuts and bruises and mental gashes after 6 months held captive by the enemy I was in perfect health, so to speak" Rodney continued for him, adding the "so to speak" for some extra padding on his midsection, undoubtedly brought on by the food orgies he'd been having since he got back.

"Well..." Carson hesitated with a deep inhale before he continued: "I did find something. But I couldn't bring my self to tell you..."

"You WHAT?!!" Rodney was back up on his feet in an instant, face flushing with both fury and fear.

"You found something, and you didn't tell me?" Actual tears of frustration appeared in his eyes as he glared at the doctor in disbelief.

"You're supposed to be my friend, Carson!" he whelped, tearing away from the man in front of him who was starting to look more and more distraught.

"Aye, Rodney. That's why I didn' tell yah. I didn' know how to... I couldn't bring my self to..."

"For God's sake, Carson! What could possibly be so terrible you didn't dare to tell me if I'm not dying?!?" Rodney yelled and shoved him away as he once more was trying to place a hand of comfort on his shoulder.

"Now, are you going to tell me what showed up on those scans, or do I have to beat it out of you?!"

___________________________________________________________________________

"Rodney, please," Carson begged, but the wild glare in McKay's eyes shut him up. Carson closed his eyes, inhaled shakily and let the cat out of the bag.

"You're pregnant."

"There," he thought to himself: "let the shit hit the fan..." But the storm of emotions that was Rodney McKay did not happen. In fact, when Carson finally dared to open his eyes again Rodney was just staring at him, dumbly, with a blank expression on his face.

"You are pregnant Rodney. The experiments they conducted on you actually produced a viable foetus." Rodney's gaze darted about the room for a second, before it somehow found Carson, and then vanished straight through him.

"Huh?" was all the astrophysicist was capable of uttering. Carson seized his window of opportunity and seized Rodney once more by the shoulders and guided him gently down on the chair. Rodney just stared dumbly at him with that dozy and confused look he got when he was on the verge of fainting or having a major mental breakdown. Carson sat down opposite him, heart sinking as he looked his best friend sternly in the eye.

"I hate telling you this, Rodney. You've been through hell, and fought your way back, and now I'm going to make things a whole lot more difficult for you. The research the Melonians conducted on you appeared to be reproductive research. By tampering with some of your cells they actually managed to grow what appears to be some kind of fully functional uterus inside you."

Rodney didn't even blink as Carson was telling him this.

"I found this… device in the initial scans I did on you when you were brought back, and we actually tried to remove it surgically, but the organ has grown into a symbioses with your major organs and has fused with your colon. I wouldn't be able to remove it without causing major blood loss and causing permanent damage to many of your internal organs."

There was the smallest of twitch from the corner of Rodney's mouth.

"And then, I discovered an inhabitant in your new organ... A living, breathing foetus. A _human_ foetus, Rodney."

"Human," Rodney breathed.

"As cruel as it may sound, the Melonians were thorough both in their research and their work. They made sure the organ would produce the hormones needed to sustain and grow a foetus to full term, and they even made it possible for the... pregnancy to end naturally..." Carson inhaled a shaky breath before he continued: "...through birth..."

"Birth..." Rodney repeated slowly.

"In fact, the device is so incredible complicated and so in sync with the rest of your internal organs that messing with it any way would be life threatening. Rodney... I can't even believe I'm telling you this, but as a doctor I see no way out of this other than to carry the foetus to term."

"Termination."

The word was barely a whisper, and the only thing that revealed the war of feelings raging inside Rodney was the tiny flickering in his eyes. Carson let out a sigh, heavy with emotion as he continued:

"There seems to be some kind of... organic failsafe programmed into the device. Any attempt to hurt the foetus results in the organ shutting down... and shutting every vital organ in your body down with it. In short: if the foetus dies, you die."

Then Rodney did something that completely flabbergasted Carson Beckett. He sat up, back straight, hands folded neatly in his lap and plastered a smile on his face as his eyes cleared up and he tilted his head to the side.

"It's a damn shame I'm a man then, Carson," he pointed out, quite politely, before a foul grimace entered his face: "since men DON'T HAVE A VAGINA!!!"

Rodney shot up from his chair and charged straight for the poor doctor seated opposite him.

Finally, the panic attack. Carson almost gave a sigh of relief as Rodney's stern hands clamped in a death lock around his throat. A panicking McKay made the world make sense again!

"Calm down, Rodney!" he gasped and tried to pry the raging astrophysicist off his throat.

"CALM DOWN?!?" Rodney screamed and let go of his friend, face now violet with anger: "Are you telling me to calm down?!? Why the hell would I?!" He launched his feet to the floor and ravaged it with a menacing pacing attack, arms flailing as he muttered frantically to himself.

"I'm somehow pregnant, due to the sick experiments by the sick scientists by some sick side branch descending from the Ancients, and I'm supposed to calm down! Hah! And I'm even supposed to carry this abomination to term and give _birth_ without flinching, because: hey, they put a failsafe in me just for fun!"

A horrible mask of realisation dawned on Rodney's face and he whirled round, glaring at Carson who visibly shrunk in front of him.

"_Birth_, Carson. You said _BIRTH_!" This time Carson managed to escape the hands shooting out to smother his throat.

"I guess I slept through a few biology classes back in Medical school before I quit, but I think I got the cliff notes!" He gestured rudely downwards to his crotch: "And as it seems I haven't grown a vagina back there in those happy days of captivity I don't see how I'm able to pass anything, let alone a _baby_ through the vagina I _don't have_!"

Carson plastered a very nervous attempt of a calming smile on his face, knowing only too well it could push his friend even further towards the edge.

"Oh lord..." he stuttered before he continued, very haltingly: "The uterus' cervix has attached itself with the wall of your rectum, turning it to a...uhm, lacking a better term for it, makeshift vagina."

Rodney's eyes rolled, and he dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks.

"That actually went rather well," Carson thought to himself.

__________________________________________________________________________

Rodney woke a few hours later, greeted by the sickening white of the infirmary's ceiling. A pounding headache made him grunt loud enough to summon a nurse, who in turn summoned a very nervous looking Carson Beckett.

"Hi there, Rodney." He gave a little wave as he leaned into view, obviously to make sure Rodney was wake and alert.

"How're you feeling lad?" Blue eyes were laced with concern for his friend's well being.

Rodney swallowed thickly as fragments of pictures and words came rushing back into his mind, the summoning to Beckett's office, the talk... A gasp escaped his throat before Rodney promptly turned to his side and lost the contents of his stomach.

________________________________________________________________________

Later that night Carson Beckett summoned a crisis meeting with Dr. Elizabeth Weir and McKay's team-mates. Rodney was currently held under observation on a secluded room in the infirmary, drugged into oblivion with an alien drug Carson had named Exhimole to help him take the edge off. It was the same vile stuff that had kept Rodney sedated while he was captivated, and the only drug that wouldn't set of the organic failsafe inside Rodney's body. Rodney didn't know the origins of the stuff that was running through his veins, though, and Carson knew that knowledge had to be kept from him.

It broke his heart when Rodney actually had begged for something to calm him down. With a shaking voice he had confessed he was too hysterical to trust himself. And knowing Rodney, Carson wasn't willing to trust him with himself either...

"So he knows," John Sheppard stated with a grim look on his face. Both he and Elizabeth had been informed about Rodney's condition at an early stage, due to their roles as leader of the Atlantis expedition and head of the military fraction stationed there. Both had agreed it was information best kept from Rodney until he had grown a little stronger after the ordeal he'd been through. The way to recovery had already proven to be long and challenging for the socially challenged scientist.

It took him one month to even dare set foot inside his quarters, two to dare a trip to the cafeteria. A grand total of three months were needed before the first quirky smile entered his face and he stated he was fit to go back to work. Then, four months later he was almost acting as his old self again, only plagued with what he believed to be a nasty stomach bug. He'd been nagging Carson about it for two weeks, convinced something was wrong. Given Rodney's medical history of being a tad on the hypochondriac side Carson had managed to keep him at bay for a little while, desperately buying time in hope to find some kind of treatment, some kind of cure he could offer him when the bombshell hit. His quest ended without answers, without a magic treatment that would make the unbelievable go away. Rodney was trapped in a condition he was in no way mentally able to cope with.

"Is there no way to reverse the condition?" Elizabeth asked.

"I've tried all the options I could think of, but the device implanted within him are too bonded with the rest of his body. The organic failsafe instructs the uterus and the rest of Rodney's body to shut down if anything happens to the foetus." Carson sighed:

"And then there's the moral and ethical aspects of the situation. At this state we are now dealing with a twenty weeks old foetus, in a few weeks time it would be able to survive outside the uterus with prenatal help."

"So what, it's unnatural!" John growled: "Rodney didn't want this, it was forced on him!"

"A life is a life," Teyla shot in. "The Athosians believe a new life is a blessing, no matter its origins."

"Does that include new wraith life?" Ronon muttered sarcastically, arms folded sternly across his chest. Teyla shot him a glare that told volumes.

"I'm simply stating that this new life within Rodney didn't choose to be placed there. It can't help its origins," Teyla simply stated. "It's as innocent in all of this as Rodney is."

"It's still unnatural!" John mumbled, stern eyes barely visible under the black mess of hair.

"Well, as it stands now, Rodney has no choice but to carry the baby to term. And we have to be there for him in every way we can," Carson stated politely.

"But what if it turns out to be some kind of foul looking alien thing?" Ronon pointed out, obviously stating what everybody around the table was thinking, but didn't dare ask.

"The baby is completely human," Carson explained: "In fact it's most probably a clone of Rodney. But there's no way to be sure though, until I get to do proper blood tests, and that I won't be able to do before the baby is born."

"Another Rodney McKay," John Sheppard mused: "I think I'd rather take my chances on a foul looking alien thing.."


	2. Lost For Breath

**Chapter ****2 Lost For Breath**

Rodney McKay, the first man to be pregnant... So he would make the first page of the Times after all, not in the way intended maybe, but hey... Spending a couple of days in a drug induced peace helped him ease the idea of impossible into his head without freaking out into a full blown panic attack.

Maybe he could spend the rest of this... pregnancy like this, glazed and dazed, doing the whole birth... thing without even giving it a second thought, lazily listening to Carson's instructions along the way.

He'd spent most of his time on the Melonian science ship like that, drugged away from fear and worries, and it had worked for a while. Then he was rescued, and the past came blasting back to his mind in large chunks of violent information, manifesting themselves as mind shattering migraines. He spent days oblivious to the world around him, not even recognising his friends. He could scream at the top of his lungs for hours, his body, mind and soul reliving the six months of torture endured without the ability to have relief. Slowly he had made his way back into the light. Slowly he dared go to bed at night without fearing he would wake up back in the science lab on that godforsaken ship.

And now he was back where he had started, four months later, dragged back down to being the same helpless being with no way out. He felt violated, his body was housing an impostor, and it even had the nerve to feed of his blood, to make a home in his body. It had latched itself so neatly inside him he wasn't able to get rid of it, and should he somehow manage to kill the thing, it would take him with it.

On the third day he meekly gave Carson the sign to reduce his dose. He couldn't hide anymore, he had to wake up and face this.

He was closely monitored by Carson as the drugs slowly was reduced and flushed out of his system. Rodney was grateful the doctor had the good grace to keep the staff around him to a bare minimum, allowing him some space to breathe.

"No one must know!" It was the first coherent sentence he was able to form as he was starting to regain a somehow stable awareness.

"Rodney..."

"Just... the team... and Weir. No one else!" Rodney stared straight past the doctor standing in front of him, but the message was crystal clear none the less.

"All right, Rodney. For the time being, no one will know," Carson agreed.

___________________________________________________________________________

With all the cobwebs and curtains drawing away Rodney felt as if he was peeled, layer by layer until there was nothing left but raw emotions and the dawning realisation that he was facing something bigger than he had his entire life. With a sinking heart he aknowledged he wasn't as brave as he had hoped.

He kept to his infirmary bed for a couple of days, feeling numb. He was still pushing the grim facts to the back of his mind, and allowed no visitors but Carson.

"I just need some time, Carson," he told the worried frown that hovered over him from time to time. Frankly he was just staring at the wall, or the ceiling. He was starting to regret having Carson pull the plug on his drug regime, as he was afraid to take that final step of acceptance.

He didn't want to face what was happening to him. Floating in a bubble of self denial and leaving his body on that bed, his mind sought refuge in old memories. Carson would often find him in that state, smiling daftly while staring blankly into thin air, and it took him a good five minutes to snap him out of it.

On the third day Carson smacked him by the back of his hand, hard on the cheek.

"Snap out of it Rodney!"

The veil in Rodney's eyes slowly lifted as he was pulled back from the fantasy world he'd built around him self.

"Ouch!" he snapped, rubbing his cheek. "What did you do that for!"

Carson had that typical "I'm your doctor, now let me treat you, dammit!" look on his face.

"Enough hiding, Rodney. I need you to deal with this, _you_ need to deal with this!"

"I am!" Rodney bit back, mouth tilting downwards the way it did when he felt insulted.

"No you're not," Carson told him calmly: "and now I'm going to give you a much needed nudge." He leaned over the man sitting on the bed, and as he was about to place a hand on Rodney's abdomen a fist shot out and impacted with his jaw.

"Oh shit!" Rodney yelped and jumped backwards towards the wall. "I'm so sorry, Carson... I... I don't know what.."

"It's alright, Rodney," Carson told him calmly, and smiled. He actually smiled.

______________________________________________________________________

"I just hit you, square on the face... and you... you smile at me?" Rodney's look of disbelief was worth the pain in his jaw.

"It was a glimpse of the old Rodney McKay," Carson smiled: "I've missed him."

"The old Rodney McKay did _not_ go around hitting people in the head!" Rodney spat, obviously offended.

"When he felt threatened, he would," Carson said, and sat down by Rodney's bedside. "I know the idea of your condition is next to impossible to grasp for you, for us all, but the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can start to accept it. And when you accept it it'll be possible for me to help you, Rodney."

Rodney blinked, a confused expression painting his features.

"I try," he admitted: "but every time I..." his voice trailed away, and he was starting to slip away again.

"Hey, focus!" Carson told him sternly, grabbing a hold of his arm. "Stay with me, Rodney!"

Rodney shook his head, a tired frown appearing on his face.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"May I?" Carson's hand let go of his patient's arm and drifted over to the area above Rodney's abdomen. Rodney looked down, stared at his friend's hovering hand for a second, and as a shudder went through his body he nodded his agreement.

Very carefully Carson lowered his hand and added pressure to Rodney's abdomen. There, beneath his skin, planted deep inside his belly, the doctor could feel the organic device causing his friend so much discomfort.

"That's.... unsettling..." Rodney whimpered, as Carson's steady hands traced the device inside him.

"You feel bloated, yeah?" Carson asked as he continued the physical exam. Rodney's gut felt hard to the touch, skin stretched from the new internal pressure.

"Like a toad..." Rodney admitted.

"That's part of the pregnancy," Carson told him, knowing he had to use layman's terms to force Rodney to start thinking about his condition with a conscious mind. Rodney's sharp inhale of air told Carson he had hit bulls eye.

"I want to give you an ultrasound examination now," Carson told him as he pulled away from the patient's stomach. "Are you up to that?"

"I... I don't know..." Rodney was hesitant. But Carson had made up his mind. For Rodney to come to terms with his condition, it was vital that he actually saw what he was up against. He needed to see for him self.  
____________________________________________________________________

He was so scared he was about to pee in his pants. As the screen above him started flickering to life and Carson carefully lifted his shirt to apply the gel needed for the connection with the ultrasound device to work Rodney realised there was no way back.

"Is it alright if I close my eyes? I don't need to see, right?" he asked nervously as Carson placed the device to his abdomen.

"I need you to stay with me this time, Rodney," Carson told him solemnly. "I know all of this is hard for you to fathom, lord knows it is for me. Therefore it is vital you start preparing for what is to come. You will have to go through with this, one way or another."

"I... I know..." Rodney sighed, steeling himself: "Well... bring it on already!"

The flickering on the screen changed and green light was suddenly broadcasting the innards of Dr. Rodney McKay.

Carson moved around a bit, before he settled the prod somewhere beneath Rodney's bellybutton.

"See that string of pearls over there?" he asked pointing towards the screen. "That's the foetus' spine. And over there, that blinking little blot over there..."

"A heart," Rodney breathed: "A beating heart!" His eyes grew large as he stared at the evidence flickering on the screen. There it was, the one thing he couldn't believe, the one thing standing between him and his old life.

"And there," Carson pushed on: "you can see the profile of the foetus' head."

Rodney's breathing grew rapid and his hands clamped down on the steel bars of the hospital bed.

"You alright, son?" Carson's voice was far away.

"No..." Rodney moaned: "I'm not alright." He tore his eyes away from the screen, refusing to stare at it any longer.

"I can't deal with this, Carson. I thought I could... but I can't." Carson removed the prod from Rodney's belly and placed a warm hand on his arm.

"Yes you can, Rodney. You're doing it right now." Rodney glared at him.

"Evidently, I'm not!" he shrugged, tucking down his shirt with ferocious movements: "I'm freaking out, that's what I'm doing right now!" He could feel the wave of emotions rising inside him like nausea.

"I'm scared, Carson." the sentence was barely audible. Rodney was sitting in his bed, legs pressed towards his chest, rocking forward and backwards. He closed his eyes, and his lungs desperately tried to keep up with his panicked breathing. He just wanted to scream, hit his fists into the wall and rage towards the enemy he couldn't reach. He didn't dare a look on Carson, who was standing by his bedside, knowing only too well his eyes would betray him if he would. He pulled away from the touch gently applied to his shoulder.

"Please," he muttered: "I need some time alone."

"It's alright, Rodney," Carson assured.

"No, NO it's NOT!" Rodney suddenly screamed.

"I, I... don't know what to do, I don't know how to..." And of course, there he was betrayed by his treacherous eyes. He dived into the palms of his hands, embarrassed and utterly ashamed, trying to blink out of existence by sheer power of will.

There was that gentle touch again, and once more he flinched away from it. But this time Carson didn't retract. Firm, gentle arms wrapped around him and pulled him close for a clumsy embrace. The smell of that weird Scottish aftershave that always lingered in a room where Carson had set foot wrapped itself around Rodney like a warm blanket. After a few feeble and half-hearted attempts at shoving Carson off him he surrendered, going limp in his arms.

"Let it out, Rodney, let it out," Carson murmured, stroking his friend's back like he would a distraught child.

And Rodney let go. He had no idea of how long he lost himself, he just hang on for dear life. He gasped for air, feeling the rage and fear slowly draining his body to leave him empty and raw of emotions that had been bottled up in him for so long.

"I... I can't do this Carson," he whispered towards Carson's chest, still hanging on to him, afraid to let go.

"We're going to get through this, together, Rodney," Carson told him gently. "It's only four months, we can do this."

"We?" Normally Rodney would have thrown a tantrum fit of such an exaggeration, but he was to tired to muster up any anger or even a small twinge of irritation.

"Who's the one who's going to carry this bugger all the way to term and give birth to it, huh?" He dug deeper into the embrace though; desperate to get all the warmth and comfort he could steal.

"Heh heh, all right Rodney, you win," Carson said, a soft tone in his voice. "I know this is unfair, I would carry your burden if I could."

"Yeah right," Rodney uttered with a growl. "You'd take my place?!"

"In a heartbeat," Carson answered sincerely, and to his great surprise Rodney realised he was telling the truth.

"Then you're a bigger man than me, Carson," he sighed and closed his eyes. He'd spent the last days wishing his condition on any other man than himself, not to much success obviously. And here Carson was willing to take his place, without even flinching, when he himself would have left a Rodney shaped hole in the wall if faced with the same dilemma.

"How come you are so bloody nice all the time?!" As always Rodney McKay was unable to greet great kindness with anything else than seething sarcasm.

"I guess someone on this base have to even out your chronic grumpiness," Carson murmured and patted him gently on the back. "We'll get you through this, Rodney."

A heavy sigh of great doubt was all that Rodney was able to reply, but the calm that settled over his body told volumes. He secretly cherished the comfort of Carson's promise.

Carson had been through his fare share of McKay breakdowns through the last couple of years. The man wasn't exactly what you'd consider made of stone. The smallest splinter in his finger could be enough to set a tantrum off and feed the hypochondriac beast that lived inside him. But despite the whining over little things, the man grew when faced with his and others mortality.

This situation was, on the other hand, what John Sheppard would've described as a curve ball. First McKay had gone missing for six months, then there was a dangerous extraction that claimed the lives of six marines. Then there was the long way back to coming to terms with what hat happened to him and settling back into his old life. Then Carson hit him with the bombshell of his pregnancy, the incredible results of the Melonians tampering with his body for six months.

Maybe Carson should have told him the truth sooner. He often pondered about this at night. The nights had grown long and never-ending for the doctor, and the few restless hours of sleep he received was all too often bothered with nightmares.

He watched the footage of the first days from when Rodney was brought back, carefully journaled by Atlantis herself, and came to the same conclusion every time. There was no way he could tell that broken soul that he wasn't out of the woods yet, that his journey in this tale had just begun. He needed a chance to get back on his feet first, or else he could, or most probably would break.

And therefore Carson had lingered, biding his time to give Rodney the time to heal, and for himself to find options to offer his friend the day he finally told him the truth.

Now Rodney McKay would have to start climbing and fighting all over again, but this time with the threat growing inside him.

For a man like Rodney the journey would be long, hard and painful. The brilliant mind of his had its dark sides. He was often both ignorant and crude, plagued with a foul mouth that often got the better of him. In his darker moments he was a raging egocentric with no thought of no one's well being other than his own. To implant him with this idea of sharing his body with a foetus was no easy task. He saw the foetus as an impostor, feeding of his energy, mind and body.

He already was a difficult man to interact with, and painfully awkward with children. The very idea of hosting one of these beings would no doubt scare the living daylights out of him.

Once Rodney had bluntly compared his brain and Carson's by describing his brain as a Rolls Royce, while he'd called Carson's brain a Mini Cooper.

"Well, at least mine is crammed to the brim with car essentials, as opposed to your pompous penis enhancer," Carson had replied, more than a little miffed. He had regretted his immature reply instantly of course, as the other man's ego visibly shrunk in front of him. Carson had that effect on McKay, he knew every button to push to force Rodney to show his true colours, but he rarely pushed them. This had been one of those rare occasions, and the real Rodney McKay was visible for the briefest of seconds.

"I do _not_ have a pompous penis enhancer!" he quacked, looking absolutely mortified.

"I tell you the Rolls Royce is equipped with more than enough extra enhancements to make it one of the most desired cars out there!"

A smirk grew on Carson's face as he watched his friend's shields go back up and saving his ego for another day.

"And you know, a Mini Cooper is a sturdy little car, I actually owned one back in the days when I was a student at..."

"Apology accepted, McKay." Carson patted his back and knew from his friend's small inhale of air, that he was relieved. It was all he needed, he knew there was a good, and sometimes even almost humble man hidden deep inside all the fake assertiveness.

Now Rodney was faced with hosting and delivering a living breathing human being, and all of the uncertainty that ultimately made Rodney human would come crashing around the walls he had built around himself.


	3. Picking Up The Pieces

**Chapter 3**** Picking Up The Pieces**

He was standing in front of the open door to his quarters, afraid to step inside. The remnants of his old life was still left there, and he was afraid his mere presence would taint the memories somehow. He was released from the infirmary, and he'd even convinced Weir to set him back on active duty, save the off world missions of course. But he could settle with that for now, being confined within the safety of Atlantis' strong walls wasn't the worst when your paranoia just had peaked new levels. But even in the good grace of Atlantis' protective shield he didn't feel safe any more, and how could he when the very threat to his life was rooted deep inside his own body?

Carson hadn't said anything about it, but it didn't need an astrophysicist to calculate that the hesitant frown on the Doctor's eyes implied there was much more to this pregnancy than just hold on for a few months. This was a case unknown to medical history and he had unwillingly become some sort of freak pioneer within reproductive science. There was no way one could predict all the possible factors that might cause problems along the road, and as a terrible bonus: if he survived the pregnancy, he would still have to give birth to this thing.

But as much as he hated the effect his condition had to his own well being it grieved him even more to see the tow it had on his team, the few people in this world he could call friends. John Sheppard was awkward as hell around him and even Teyla had a cloud of unease hovering over her head. Ronon was even weirder than he used to be, no doubt as a result of Sheppard having the good grace to pick "Alien" for movie night. He knew Elizabeth Weir had assessed the option of sending him back home to earth, but thankfully she'd realised the aspect of a pregnant man wouldn't sit too well with the general population of earthlings, the idiots and morons. As if he'd be released into the world with a space baby packed behind his shirt... He'd most likely be thrown into the darkest cell they could find back at Area 51. Now wouldn't that be amusing, he would go from brilliant scientist to freak guinea pig...

Radek Zelenka and the rest of the staff of Atlantis didn't know about his little predicament yet, and Rodney preferred it that way. They would see the weight gain as his metabolism finally getting tired with that excessive eating of his, and his weird behaviour would be the new quirks acquired after a few months of being held captive.

Then there was Carson. That man was a beautiful pain in the ass nowadays, knowing exactly when to push and when to hold back. He was the only one who seemed remotely relaxed with Rodney's condition and at the same time he was completely and honestly scared shitless on his friend's behalf.

"Come on, Rodney. Time to pick up the pieces and start over again," Carson told him and gave him a gentle nudge through the doorway. Rodney's eyes darted around the room for a few seconds before he tiredly trotted across the floor and sat down on the bed.

"Home, sweet home," he chirped, with a helpless smile plastered over his face. The uncertainty mirrored in Carson's eyes made his gaze drop, and he found himself staring on his hands, fiddling effortlessly in his lap.

"I can do this. Four more months, I can do this." He could hear the door shut behind Carson as he stepped into the room and walked over to the bed. He sat down beside him, a warm palm placed over Rodney's restless fingers.

"Yes you can, Rodney."

_________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later Carson's for once blissful sleep was compromised by an abrupt banging on his door.

"Open up Carson, I know you're in there!" Rodney sounded like he was on the verge of another panic attack.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Keep your knickers on," Carson yawned as he fumbled his way out of bed and over to the door. With a tired frown he activated the doorway, and the door slid into the wall with a silent "huff", only to reveal a very distraught looking Rodney McKay.

"I can't do this! There's four more months, I can't do this!" he whimpered as he charged straight into the Doctor's room. He gave his wristwatch a quick look, went into calculation mode and squealed:

"That's 120 days, 6 hours, 47 minutes and 21 seconds, Carson!"

"Give or take a week or two," Carson solemnly added, only to receive a fierce glare in return.

"This is NOT funny!" he growled and started pacing back and forth on the floor in typical Rodneysque manner.

"No, it's not," Carson sighed, knowing he had a very long night ahead of him.

____________________________________________________________________

He woke early in the morning by the sound of soft snoring tingling by his right ear. Rodney blinked in confusion, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up. He didn't recognize his room, and slowly it dawned on him that this came of the simple fact that it wasn't. It was in fact... A loud snore had his gaze shoot down to his right, and there, in all his sleeping glory, Carson Beckett lay sprawled out on his back, sporting a ragged T-shirt and white and blue boxers.

With a shriek Rodney shot out of bed, slamming into a wall as he tore over the floor to regain his pants. What was he doing, he double checked that T-shirt and boxers were intact and in fact _on_ him, in another man's bed at six in the morning?!

There was a grunt and the sounds of rustling bed sheets from the bed.

"Mornin', Rodney." Carson's voice was rusty and heavy with the blame of being waken up too early.

Rodney spun around, trousers halfway up his legs and knees.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!" he squealed, stumbling in his own feet as he tugged the fabric of his pants desperately. He'd always been somewhat shy when it came to his body, and to find himself in just boxers and T-shirt was like being caught strolling naked into a library.

Carson sat up, hair rustled and confusion evident on his face.

"What's the matter?" he asked, rubbing his face tiredly.

"You and me," Rodney whispered fiercely: "in the same bed!" He struggled with the buttons that somehow seemed to have become impossible to insert into their respective...

The look on Carson's face was priceless.

"What exactly are you implying, Rodney?" Rodney's jaw shot out, but a defensive snarl turned into a confused frown.

"I... I... don't know?" he admitted hesitantly. What _had_ happened last night? He remembered freaking out, running to Carson's quarters and stomping into his room like a rampaging Godzilla. Then there'd been some more freaking out, a whole lot of ranting and... crying. Dammit! He'd been bawling his eyes out, and the poor smock who had witnessed it was once more Carson.

"You were pretty distraught last night, after a while you fell asleep on my bed, and since I don't have a spare bed, and don't fancy sleeping on the cold floor, I decided I could bunk with you. Obviously I shouldn't," Carson scowled, reaching for his own pants.

"I... I... I'm sorry I just..." Rodney tried, flailing helplessly.

"You just _what_?!" The pitch in Carson's voice told Rodney he was more than just a little irritated: "Are you trying, quite poorly I might add, to tell me I've taken advantage of you in some way?!? The last time I checked I was not a gay predator Rodney, if _THAT'S_ what you're implying!"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry! I don't... I don't know what came into me..." Rodney finished flatly. He realised he'd acted like a complete moron. To imply to Carson that his intentions were anything other than honourable was like kicking him in the gut.

"It's... it's the hormones!" Rodney wailed: "They make my... small tendency to think pessimistically..." At this Carson raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"…go off the charts… a wee, tiny bit.."

"So the worst possible situation you could think off when waking in the same bed as me was that I'd somehow turned you gay during the night?! Or did you actually believe I would do _anything_ to you against your own will?!" Carson's cheeks were turning violently purple.

"And just as you know it, _you_ spooned with _me_!" he added, pointing at Rodney with an accusing finger.

"I did no such thing!" Rodney howled, horrified. Carson shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

"All right, Rodney. Let's calm down now, the both of us." He sat down on the bed, trousers still unbuttoned.

"There's nothing wrong in seeking some comfort from a friend now and then. Last night you needed a shoulder, and as your friend, I was there. That's all that happened, nothing more, nothing less. If you're going to get through this in one piece you need to start trusting people."

Rodney looked at him, feeling utterly lost.

"I know. I trust you. It's just..."

"Hormones, yeah I know," Carson sighed."

"Well, I guess I'll be heading off for work then..." Rodney pointed helplessly towards the door.

"Yeah, I guess so," Carson shrugged.

Halfway through the doorway Rodney stopped and turned back.

"You know... I haven't slept so well in months," he murmured, a hopeful glance towards the man still sitting on the bed. Something stirred in those blue eyes as Carson answered:

"Me neither Rodney." A smile grew on his face: "But just let me sleep in the next time."


	4. A Steep Climb

**Chapter 4 A Steep Climb**

It was blissfully busy for Rodney to resume his work. The many power systems of Atlantis had suffered during his absence, power being rerouted inefficiently to useless parts of the city, draining the ZPM to dangerous levels. Naturally Radek Zelenka had hell to suffer the first week, as Rodney was not afraid to step on some toes, or heads for that matter.

He normally thrived under such working conditions, when new challenges were following tightly, like pearls on a string. He conveniently shut out the fact that he was tiring much easier lately and chose to ignore Carson's warnings about exhausting himself. His blood pressure was already dangerously high, and he was advised to wind down and log a maximum of six hours of work each day. Sure, Rodney logged only six hours, the rest of his time spent fixing and mending the Atlantis' systems he regarded as "unwinding time".

When night came, he would dive into bed already half asleep, and then stay unconscious to the world around him through the night, too tired to dream and therefore too tired to have any nightmares.

When morning came he just repeated the same procedure as he did the day before. Breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, work, late night snack, and then some more work until his body and mind was too numb to continue any further. It worked like a charm, he almost forgot about the thing growing inside him. He was working ferociously, even skipping meals from time to time. Loosing himself in work had become a new way of coping.

On the ninth day back on duty he was summoned to Elizabeth Weir's office. When he was greeted with the grim faces of both Elizabeth _and_ Carson his heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. And Weir didn't beat around the bush.

"This can't continue any longer, McKay," Elizabeth stated politely: "As much as we appreciate the work load you contribute to this base we're concerned you're not giving your own wellbeing much thought at the moment."

"There's not like I have much choice! I cried actual tears when I saw what Radek's buffoons have done to the control systems while I was gone. It's a bloody miracle the ZPM haven't depleted a long time ago. A few more weeks and it would have been beyond rescue," Rodney argued.

"As I said, Rodney: I, we, appreciate the long hours you've laid down here, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm concerned for your well being. You need to slow down."

"Are you telling me I'm not capable of fulfilling my duties?"

"Not at all, I'm just saying that a man in your condition..."

"Yes, what about it?! It's not like you have any one to compare with now, is it!"

"Rodney..."

"I need this. I need to feel useful again. I need to... I need to... forget sometimes.."

"Forget what?"

Rodney sighed, shoulders going limp as he lowered the shields protecting him.

"I need to forget this." he gestured meekly towards his abdomen. "It's draining the life and sanity out of me and work is the only thing that gives me some peace of mind right now."

Elizabeth straightened up in her chair, eyes full of concern and sincerity.

"I know this must be difficult for you Rodney. But you must understand that it's my duty as your ranking officer and leader of Atlantis to make sure you don't become a liability to this base. And you will become just that if you continue straining yourself in this pace. Unless you are willing to follow the strict work protocol Carson and I have come up with I will have no other choice than to take you off active duty."

Rodney stared down on the desk in front of him, not knowing if he was grateful or disappointed.

"All right."

_______________________________________________________________________

John Sheppard had hovered outside Rodney's door for fifteen minutes counting his buttons. He'd been avoiding the head of the Science and Research department of Atlantis ever since Carson had sat him and Elizabeth down and told them about Rodney's condition. The poor smock was like a magnet to everything extraordinary bad. He had always been the one getting shot, stunned, beaten and poked at on missions, and he'd always been regarded as the team's weak link under such circumstances.

But this time, John Sheppard was slowly starting to realise that he himself had a hard time coping. To see Rodney in such a fragile state was downright painful. The scientist had drifted into overdrive, loosing himself in work as he always did when he was trying to escape from something. His whole posture had changed somehow, along with the slight changes slowly starting to show on his body. He always looked dog tired, and his mood swings were changing so rapidly even Radek was starting to back away from him. The usual bickering about every tiny discomfort had disappeared, as if he suddenly was feeling on top of the world, and as weird as it seemed, that concerned Sheppard even more.

McKay was _made_ of tiny aches and pains and the stunning ability to blow them into enormous proportions, he was supposed to whine and grind every time something miniscule stepped into his way.

As he was standing there, drowning in his own thoughts, the door swished open and there Rodney was standing, an apprehensive glare aimed at the man standing in front of him.

"You've been standing there for twenty minutes, Sheppard! Either you come on in or you can leave so I can actually get some work done!"

"How did you..." John's voice trailed off as Rodney held up a life signs detector.

"Paranoid, are we?" Sheppard mused as he stepped inside. The man was truly growing paranoid if he kept that thing by his side even when off duty.

"Just a precaution," Rodney answered matter of factly.

John's brow furrowed as his eyes trailed the scientist as he made his way further into his quarters. His hair was ruffled, eyes sunken and showing signs of insomnia, and the way he was rubbing his forehead indicated a pretty severe migraine. He'd always looked awkward within his own skin, but now he looked downright resentful towards himself. He was lurching forwards, as if he was trying to compensate for the new weight slowly starting to show down on his abdomen.

"It's... been a while..." Rodney mumbled, a half hearted smile on his lips as he sunk down on his office chair.

"Yeah… It's been kind of busy lately... Lots of off world activity," John lied. He didn't know why he bothered though; Rodney knew everything that went on at this base.

"Yeah, well... It's been kind of busy around here to," Rodney had the good grace to lie back.

"So, uhm... How are you feeling?" John already regretted coming. He was totally inept at this... reaching out thing.

Rodney gave him a long look with tired eyes before answering.

"Fine, I guess. Carson's keeping a pretty close eye on me."

"Yeah, he can be a pain in the ass some times," John admitted: "But he means well." Rodney rubbed his neck, staring blankly out into the room.

"You look tired, Rodney. Maybe I should come back another time..?"

"No, no... please stay." Rodney looked like he was shaking a world of troubles off his shoulders as he straightened his back and put his chin up.

"I just... I didn't sleep so well last night." He raised his eyebrows as he continued, and his eyes darted around with dawning realisation: "Well, I guess I don't sleep so well, period. Transition face, I guess." There was a hint of the old Rodney McKay in there, the helpless smirk on his mouth just proved it.

"So that's what you pregnant folks call it these days, a transition face?" John Sheppard asked with a wicked grin lurking in the corner of his mouth. Dammit! He and that big mouth of his.

Rodney looked like he'd just been hit over the head, hard. He obviously hadn't adjusted to the big P-word yet. John sighed as he walked over to one of Rodney's poor excuses for an armchair and slumped down into it.

"Not quite ready for my boyish banter yet, I see," he lamented running a hand through that black mess of hair. He hated situations like these, where he had no idea where to set his foot, or how to weigh his words.

"Not as of yet, no..." Rodney sighed. They sat there silent for a couple of minutes, until John broke the silence with a hesitant confession.

"You know I'm not very good at this, Rodney. I see you struggling and I want to reach out and help you, but I don't know how to." John argued the words out of his mouth. Touchy feely stuff was harder to utter than sparring with Ronon with both hands tied to his back. Rodney looked at him, eyes heavy with something John would never have to face for himself.

"Is there anything I... and the rest of the team can do for you, anything?" he asked the scientist earnestly. Right there and then he would gladly have offered to travel to the end of the universe and back again if that would've made any difference.

Rodney lowered his head, and closed his eyes. With a trembling and honest whisper he made John feel more helpless than he had his entire life.

"I think I have to come to terms with this myself first. I need you guys to continue on the way you use to. Just be there... just be there by the breakfast table in the mess hall. I'll find my way, one day at a time."

Rodney's eyes stayed closed, and John sensed it was his clue to leave.

"We'll be there Rodney," he murmured and left the room with heavy steps.

___________________________________________________________________

He was standing in front of the mirror his quarters, a hesitant scowl on his face.

"You said it yourself last night, McKay. You need to come to terms with this!" he grumbled to himself as his hands tugged at the bottom of the T-shirt on his back. He was feeling dizzy and nauseous, and he was running a minor fever he knew Carson would throw a tantrum about. He'd woken up that morning after a few hours of restless sleep, knowing it was him and only him who was able to get his life back on track. All the John Sheppards and Carson Becketts in the world wouldn't make a difference as long as he was too coward to face what he was up against.

"All right, here goes," he growled and lifted his T-shirt. He took a deep breath, and finally looked down. There it was, a belly. A tiny curve was slowly expanding week by week, making his T-shirts a little snugger than he would've liked, but not so much that anyone would be able to tell he was gaining much weight just yet. He'd always been a little... soft around the burly edges, so to speak. But his stomach had changed. What had been a soft hint of a pot belly had changed into a smooth and hard surface, evident of something hiding beneath it.

He touched the slightly distended gut. First with a finger, and then with three, and before he knew it, his palm was pushing towards warm flesh with a curiosity he didn't know he even possessed.

"I'm doing this," he told himself firmly. "I'm freaking out, but I'm doing this. You're just a passenger, and I'm the one stuck with you for the time being. How about we make a deal? If you don't bother me, then I won't bother you. We're in this together for now, and when the time comes we go our separate ways. How about that?"

His gaze lifted, until his eyes met his own in the mirror's reflection. Dark grey eyes lined with termination and fear looked back at him.

"You're doing this!" he whispered, his mind growing heavy with something that reminded him of relief.

_______________________________________________________________________

He found John, Teyla, Ronon and Carson by their usual table in the mess hall. His hands were trembling so hard his entire breakfast was in immediate danger of sliding off the tray. It felt like a lifetime ago when he last sat by that table, amongst his friends and colleagues. It was the same day he'd been taken captive by the Melonians. They'd been sitting there, just like they did now, chatting about anything and everything, and he'd felt warm and accepted as he joined them.

Heart pounding in his chest he took the first hesitant steps back to his old life. John looked up as he approached them, the surprise on his face quickly turned into a warm smile.

"Rodney! We saved you a place."

"Thank you, Sheppard," Rodney greeted, thanking for more than just a spot by the old table. Ronon nudged his shoulder as he settled on the chair, his way of telling Rodney welcome back. Carson was positively beaming from where he was seated, and Teyla made his heart fly as she touched his cheek and said:

"Welcome back, Rodney. We've missed you!"


	5. Dealing With Dignity

**Chapter 5 Dealing**** With Dignity**

Alright. So he was pregnant, so what! Rodney McKay strutted down the corridors with a renewed spring in his step from that day on. He was pregnant, and he was dealing with it, period. But he wasn't letting his condition interfere with his work!

He'd even tried to convince Elizabeth Weir to let him back on off world missions, but had so far failed miserably.

"You're now about seven months along, McKay, it's too dangerous."

"You can say pregnant, I don't mind anymore," Rodney chirped, pleasantly tapping his computer tablet. "And besides, I'm in perfect health, fit as a horse and a valuable asset to Sheppard's team."

"I have no doubt your return to the off world missions would gain Sheppard's team, McKay. But I'm not as convinced about your state of health as you are." Rodney put the tablet aside, an annoyed look entering his face.

"Look, I told you, I feel just f..."

"I have your medical journal right here, Rodney" Weir interjected: "and it seems you're pushing the envelope quite a bit. Your blood pressure is alarmingly high, you run a fever every couple of days, and Carson's quite certain you're suffering from frequent migraines, that you are sleep deprived and that you aren't able to hold down more than about half of the food you're eating. You're running what he describes as a high risk pregnancy, and it's Beckett's medical advice as your doctor to keep you here at Atlantis where you're in short distance to proper medical care if needed."

"Blasted Beckett!" Rodney thought to himself, his jaw clenching.

"Does he now..." he mumbled.

"Besides, you're needed here on the base for the time being," Elizabeth added, a consoling glint in her eyes. "No one monitors Atlantis' systems the way you do."

"Of course they don't!" Rodney huffed, taking the bait: "It's incredible you guys even survived six months without me. But obviously I've had to deal with the damages and malpractice ever since my return."

"Yes, you're quite right," Weir willingly agreed: "And therefore I see no other option than to ground you here for the time being." Rodney just opened his mouth to continue his own praise when the truth hit him.

"You're just humouring me, aren't you." He concluded, flatly.

"Of course not, Rodney!" Weir answered, brushing him off: "Now, I need you to run a systems check in the jumper's bay. There's been several reports of abnormalities with the docking devices in the last couple of days."

"What?! Why haven't I been informed of this?!" Rodney shot to his feet in an instant.

"I have to get back to work!"

____________________________________________________________________

"You just had to give her my medical file, now didn't you..!" Rodney scowled at the doctor who was taking his blood pressure.

"What ever happened to doctor- patient confidentially?"

Carson Beckett gave him one of his famous "Beckett knows best"- looks.

"You were trying to get back on the team, Rodney, and I know you're willing to stretch the truth a bit when you're rushing into things."

"I'm not rushing!" Rodney quacked, looking appalled.

"And besides, if I'm ever going to get back on the team it has to be before I become "Sam the Whale", and _that's_ already cutting it short!" he continued, pointing at his gut.

"And what would you do when you're running around in a hive ship seven and a half months pregnant and you suddenly go into early labour?"

"That's not going to happen. These things gestates for nine months, don't they?" Rodney shrugged his shoulders.

"Rodney! You're not a microwave! The Melonians didn't put this device in you, dial it to nine months to then sit down to wait for it to say "bing"!" There was an annoyed tone in Carson's voice as he started on Rodney's weekly physical. But Rodney, suddenly having an epiphany moment, shoved him off.

"But you told me this thing inside me will shut down all my internal organs if something happens to it before the nine months are up!" Rodney wailed, panic rising to the surface with a deep maroon shade.

"No, I didn't say nine months, as in exactly nine months to the day," Carson patiently explained, rubbing his forehead as if he was struggling to find the right words: "Look. The womb the Melonians installed within you will trigger the failsafe if the foetus is being terminated or delivered before it is fully grown and viable outside the host's body. A normal pregnancy runs for about 40 weeks. A human baby delivered before the 37th week is considered premature. In your situation, Rodney, a premature labour might equal death if we don't stop the contractions in time." Carson looked Rodney sternly in the eye before he continued:

"You see now? This is dangerous, Rodney. I will need to monitor you every step of the way. There are a number of things that can go wrong, and I need to stay on top of it at any given time."

"Yeah, well... thanks for the pep talk, then," Rodney squealed, the colour in his face draining to a sickly shade of pale.

"This is why I've been bugging you about your blood pressure, this is why I beg you to take it easy whenever you're running a fever, and this is why I want you to rest when you're tired, and to put yourself first for once," Carson told him sincerely. "At this point you can't risk even getting stung by a wraith stunner, or go to a sparring lesson with Ronon."

"As if I do either of them on a daily basis," the scientist pointed out, dryly.

Rodney swallowed, trying to adjust to the new information Carson had been trying to feed him in a more careful manner the latest weeks, but to deaf ears. Now it finally dawned on him the severity of his condition. There were all sorts of things that might go wrong along the way.

There was a heavy sigh from Carson, who once more approached his patient with an intention to finish Rodney's weekly physical examination.

"Is it all right if I continue with the examination, Rodney?" he asked, as Rodney's arms blocked the access to his lower abdomen. Rodney shook back to reality again, nodding confusedly, moving his arms up to fold over his chest. He watched as Carson put warm hands on his stomach, as his thoughts started trailing off about the insanity of his situation.

"Everything seems fine, Rodney," Carson told him soothingly, a satisfied look on his face: "The womb and the foetus are developing nicely, and grows at the rate they would in a normal pregnancy."

"But this isn't a normal pregnancy, is it..." Rodney exclaimed sarcastically.

"No, but the device's intention is to mimic a normal pregnancy in almost every aspect," Carson patiently explained: "and you've got a pretty decent doctor watching you. I'd say you've got the odds on your side."

Rodney closed his eyes, fighting the urge to give in to the nausea rising inside him.

"I just want it to be over with," he mumbled, knowing Carson Beckett was thinking the exact same thing.

_________________________________________________________________________

After the examination Carson joined him on his way to the mess hall, but got a confused look on his face when Rodney strolled straight past the transporter.

"Rodney, where're you going?

"I'm NOT going into a transporter! It's going to get stuck somewhere and then I'll go into labour. It happens to pregnant women all the time!"

"Yes, in the movies, Rodney..."

"Doesn't matter, I'm not going!"

"There's a larger chance for you to induce labour if you walk all the way from the infirmary to mess hall."

"Alright then, transporter it is."

______________________________________________________________________

"You're getting fat, McKay," Radek Zelenka blatantly pointed out a couple of weeks later down in the jumper bay. The heat sensors down there were going high wire and Rodney was left no choice but to strip down to his T-shirt or to perspire to death. Removing his uniform jacket was _not_ something he did with a light heart these days, and he skipped around the place like a bashful virgin, hiding behind the monitors.

"No I'm not!" Rodney scowled, cursing his black T-shirt's limited slimming abilities. He was absolutely flabbergasted himself as of how quickly his stomach had started to expand. Now there was an evident curve added to his profile making his weight gain pretty obvious.

"Yes you are," Radek continued: "You're getting a... what you call it... bear gut?"

"It's a beer gut," Rodney impatiently explained: "...and so what?! The women just happen to find a little extra padding quite charming," Rodney hoped to sound a lot more confident than he felt.

"No they don't," Radek argued back: "They want muscles."

Rodney sighed, admitting Radek had a valid point.

"Yeah... They want Ronon and Sheppard, basically..."

"Yup," Radek agreed.

"Well thank god for my burly brain then," Rodney chirped, a self confident smirk growing back on his face.

Two hours later they were heading back to the control room, to readjust the heat sensors in the jumper bay and call it a day. They were arguing quite fiercely about the mathematics of string theories as they stepped into the transporter. As the doors swished shut in front of them Radek dialled the address for the control room and hit the activate button.

Rodney didn't realise what had happened at first. There was a loud crash, a million of dancing lights and then Radek's body slammed into the wall and went limp as it crashed to the floor.

"Zelenka?" Rodney looked around in confusion before he found the lifeless body lying on the floor of the transporter. Then his brain finally kicked into hyper drive.

"Radek, can you hear me?" Rodney crouched down and grabbed Radek by the shoulder, shaking him lightly. When the man didn't react to stimuli he immediately activated the intercom.

"Control room? This is McKay! Some of the circuits on the transporter back in the jumper bay seem to have malfunctioned, Zelenka is unconscious!"

Carson Beckett immediately went online:

"Rodney, I need you to check his pulse and breathing for me!"

"He's better be breathing, cause I'm _not_ giving him the kiss of life!" Rodney squealed, panic rising as he examined the lifeless body of his colleague.

"Rodney!" Carson hissed.

"Alright, alright!" Rodney snarled and did as he was told.

"He's breathing! And... there's a pulse!"

"Good! We're coming to you, stay put," Carson ordered.

"Actually, they don't have a choice..." Sheppard's voice sparked into the intercom.

"What do you mean?!" Rodney demanded.

"All the transporters are down."

"WHAT?!" The stress in Rodney's voice was easy to read.

"…and the doors with them.." Sheppard continued: "It seems you guys are stuck until we find a way to open the doors. It's going to take a good thirty minutes for us to get there manually, but we're on our way!"

All that was to be heard from Rodney's end of the line was laboured breathing.

"Rodney... Try to stay calm, alright." Carson urged.

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say, you're not the one who's pregnant!" Rodney groaned. There was a unison gasp on the line from all the silent listeners.

"Nice, McKay," Sheppard tuned in.

Back in the transporter Rodney was having a severe anxiety attack. He was stuck in this tiny room with no way out, and with an unconscious Zelenka as his only company. This had to be the closest version to hell on earth any man could encounter.

He could've wept of relief when Radek stirred and opened his eyes shortly after.

"What happened?" he mumbled, slowly sitting up and touching his head.

"The transporter short circuited," Rodney told him, patting Radek's shoulder. "You gave me quite the scare there, for a second." Radek slowly sat up, confusion and pain painting his wary features.

"I don't think there's a part of my body that doesn't hurt," Radek moaned, rubbing his face.

"Yeah, fine. Now, get us out of here!" Rodney demanded, dragging him to his feet.

"I'm sorry, what?" Zelenka looked utterly confused. "Did you actually just ask me to do something you normally would have done yourself in a matter of ten seconds?!"

"Yes! Now, get going!" Rodney urged, shoving Radek's tablet back into his arms.

"The last time I touched that panel I got zapped pretty bad, McKay. That's why you're not giving it a try, isn't it." Radek accused, a suspicious frown growing on his face.

"It's because... I can't take the risk..." Rodney looked ashamed.

"Oh, so you're more valuable than me, are you?!" Zelenka's small figure rose with indignity.

"No!" Rodney waved his arms frantically: "No... well yes actually, but that's not the point!" Rodney felt like a moron.

"I can't risk getting stunned, because... because I'm..." He couldn't believe what he as about to say...

"You're what?!" Radek demanded.

"I'm pregnant..." Rodney finished flatly. Zelenka's eyes widened, then his gaze went from the ashamed frown on Rodney's face and down to his midsection, poorly covered with Rodney's unzipped jacket. Radek growled something in check and shook his head.

"You pick a good time to be telling stupid jokes, McKay!" he snarled and went to work on his tablet.

"But I..." Rodney started, but his voice trailed off. There was no need for him to convince Radek of his condition as long as he went back to work. He pushed the intercom above his ear.

"Sheppard, come in!"

"Go ahead, Rodney," Sheppard's voice rang on the other end.

"Zelenka's regained consciousness and is working to get us out as we speak."

"Good! How're you feeling Radek?" Sheppard asked.

"Like a grilled chicken, Colonel," Zelenka answered, sending a snide look towards Rodney who was currently cowering in the corner, as far away from possible power surges as possible.

"You think you can manage to open the doors?"

"I don't know. There seems to be severe damage to the electrical systems powering the doors. They may be sealed shut, like a sardine box..."

"A sardine box?!" Rodney squealed. "That's no good, I need to get out of here, and I need to get out of here now!!" Panic was getting the better of him.

"Rodney, calm down!" John demanded from his end of the line. "You're no good to anyone if you start hyperventilating."

"Too late," Radek mumbled, watching McKay tug his chest. Sweat was already trickling down his forehead.

Carson Beckett's voice sparked back on the line again, his breathing indicating he was running as he was speaking.

"Listen to me Rodney, you have to calm down. We're coming to get you!"

"I'm... trying..!" Rodney gasped, crouching down. "But there's a... twinge down in my stomach... It's starting to hurt pretty bad..."

"Radek!" Carson yelled, making Zelenka drop his tablet and jump backwards. "Drop what you're doing and make Rodney lay down on his back, NOW!" The urgency in his voice left no doubt. Radek Zelenka scrambled his feet over to Rodney and helped him lie down.

"What's going on, Rodney?" he asked the heaving heap of scientist lying sprawled out on the floor.

"Trouble... breathing," Rodney gasped, a hand desperately clasping at his chest.

"The device think's it's under attack, Rodney. You need to calm down!" Carson's voice yelled through the intercom. "We're working on a way to get you two out, in the mean time, you need to trust us!"

"Easier... said... than... done," Rodney wheezed, and shut his eyes. His jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the pain shooting through his body, and the mere fact that his lungs were shutting down. Then a horribly simple idea shot into his mind. He lifted his head, staring sternly into Radek's terrified eyes and gave him a direct order:

"Punch... me out.., Radek!"

"What?!" Zelenka squealed, looking like he'd fallen from the moon: "You want me to punch you?!"

"Yes.., do it... now!" Rodney growled, already seeing stars.

"Actually, that might just work. Do as he says, Radek!" Carson agreed from the intercom. Radek Zelenka muttered some check words, grabbed something from the floor and leaned over Rodney with fearful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Rodney," he shuddered and hit his colleague over the head with a computer tablet.

_________________________________________________________________________

Rodney McKay awoke to the worst headache he'd encountered in years, not counting the countless migraines. His stirring attracted attention, there was a voice and some blurred figures hovering over him.

"Rodney, can you hear me?" Carson's voice. So he was alive then, and he'd made it out of the transporter.

"Yeah..." Rodney grunted, blinking wearily. Slowly his vision cleared, and he spotted Carson, John, Elizabeth, Teyla and even Ronon and Radek lining up around his hospital bed.

"I made it to the infirmary, then," he concluded dryly, stirring slowly with discomfort.

"Yup, that you did. We got you out twenty minutes after Radek knocked you out," Sheppard chimed in with a rugged smile. Radek leaned into view, a nervous look on his face.

"I'm sorry about that... by the way," he apologized, giving his glasses a nudge.

"Nah, don't apologize, you were following a direct order," Rodney sighed, rubbing his face. "But you didn't need to try and brain damage me in the process!"

"How are you feeling?" Carson asked, giving his pupils a quick check-up.

"Like I've been hit on the head with something hard?!" Rodney growled.

"Well, at least you didn't punch the good mood out of him," Sheppard mused, nudging Zelenka's shoulder.

"Hardy harr ha!" Rodney gave the second in command a scowl, before something entirely different regained his thoughts.

"What about... Is everything alright..." he clenched his fists in frustration, couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. Carson placed a hand on his shoulder, honest eyes beaming down on him.

"You stopped it in time, Rodney. Everything is fine. The foetus is responding to stimuli, and the womb has taken no damage. The failsafe was responding to your panic attack, but as soon as you were out cold your pulse slowed down and your breathing normalised."

"But I've had plenty of panic attacks before," Rodney muttered, hating to admit it out loud: "why was this any different?"

"Your previous... episodes appeared earlier in your pregnancy, you're further along now, the device is draining a lot more energy of your body. That lowers the reaction time to when it switches into shut down mode."

"So Rodney here needs to remain stress free for the next couple of months?" Sheppard asked incredulously.

"If not stress free, so at least fearing for his life free until the foetus is viable..." Carson muttered: "Which might be a tall order what with the Wraith threat drawing ever closer..."

"Well, you're not relocating me, if that's what you're indicating!" Rodney stammered: "Besides, if I start to hyperventilate you just have to knock me out again!" Ronon' and John's smirks gave him little next to no comfort. Elizabeth Weir hadn't said anything so far, but her following words probably underlined the feelings of every person standing in the room.

"This is going to be a long couple of months..."


	6. Raising The Odds

**Chapter 6 ****Raising The Odds**

So he was officially the laughing stock of the entire Atlantian crew then, and probably amongst their trading partners along the Pegasus Galaxy as well... Now everybody knew about his little quandary, brought to them live through intercom by the horse's mouth itself. He and that god awful big mouth of his!

Rodney was released from the infirmary two days later, with a bump in his head and a blow to his stamina. Everywhere he went there were smirks and giggles, heads turning and blatant pointing. No one looked at his face anymore; everybody's eyes were locked on his protruding midsection.

He held to his quarters when he was off duty, as he tired a lot easier nowadays, and he didn't want to give the freak show audience the show they were craving. Naturally this concerned Carson, but at least he understood why.

It was painful to even set foot in the mess hall the first couple of weeks after the news had spread around the base. There was a murmur of voices and eyes trailing his every step, mapping everything he ate, watching his every move and quirk. Thankfully his team-mates were surrounding him and giving him the support he desperately needed by their mere presence. They being there with him, interacting with him like they normally would showed the rest of the base that he wasn't carrying some horrible infectious disease, and slowly the others started to follow their example. Slowly the freak was integrated back into the good graces of Stargate Atlantis, warts, pregnancy and all...

______________________________________________________________________

He was drawing close to his 35th week, and had volunteered to go on a short scouting mission down in the lower levels of Atlantis, after swearing solemnly to keep within transporter range to the infirmary.

He was feeling almost giddish, gearing up together with Sheppard and Dex, realising how much he'd missed this during his absence. Sure, science and computer work was his real mission in life, and where he belonged, but he'd missed the trips and the missions to other planets, the camaraderie and the challenges that pushed him further both as a scientist and as a man. There were some obvious physical changes though, now his uniform jacket wouldn't zip no matter how hard he tried. Not that he needed it anyway, he was producing enough heat to warm up a small city...

"Does this tack vest make me look fat?" Rodney asked feeblemindedly as he struggled to adjust the seems on the sides so that he would be able to breathe.

"No, your belly does," Ronon replied, exchanging looks with John Sheppard who looked like he was on the verge of a girlish giggle. Rodney shot them both a deadly glare.

"Ha, ha. Let's all mock the pregnant man!" he snapped, and grabbed his tablet and life signs detector.

"You're sure you're up to this?" John asked for the tenth time as they headed out in the hallway.

"Sure. As long as you don't mind that I'm slowing you down, I'm up to it!" Rodney answered heartily. He knew Carson would have both their heads if they stressed him up or made him strain himself more than he should.

"Besides, you need my brainpower if we encounter any hidden research facilities of some kind."

"If we're finding any hidden labs we're not even approaching them," John told him sternly. "We'll catalogue it and send Radek and his team down there to check it out afterwards." He raised his eyebrows slightly at the annoyed look on Rodney's face.

"Hey, don't look at me! Strict orders from your doctor!"

"So this is basically just a glorified "Stretch the fat one's legs a bit"- stroll then," Rodney growled.

"I say we go with "scouting mission", it has a better ring to it, doesn't it?" Sheppard smirked.

He had a blast though, drawing in every sensation and enjoying the rush of feeling important again as he waddled down the hallways flanked by the brawniest men on the base. He was almost tempted to draw his gun and fling it aimlessly around, just to prove to himself he still was of some use besides his brain.

They made it their way down to level three, Rodney glowing with sweat, but determined to go through with it. They were going to check out, surficially though, what could be an old ancient research lab.

"Almost there," he breathed as they headed down a dark hallway and stopped outside an obstructed entrance.

"Now remember," John said as Ronon managed to lodge open the steal door, "We're just looking. There's to be no touching of any kind!" he ordered, giving McKay a snide look.

"Yeah, yeah. No touchy," Rodney agreed, rolling his eyes. What was he, five?!

The lights and several monitors flicked to life as Sheppard and the others entered the room, and Rodney's fingers immediately started to tingle with excitement.

"This is interesting!" he chirped, as he headed further into the room. A low hum and another monitor woke to life as he approached it.

"Rodney!" Sheppard took a step forward.

"Relax, I'm not touching anything!" Rodney snapped: "Besides, I don't think this is a research lab, it's some kind of an infirmary."

"What ever it is, you need to back away from it!" John ordered: "There's seems to be some kind of energy build up in that control panel next to you. And he was right, lights started to beam, and the monotone humming was rising in strength. Rodney tapped his tablet and watched as the energy was about to spike, finally realising he should get the hell out of there. But just as Sheppard was about to tug him away from the panel a beaming light shot out of the control panel and hit Rodney's stomach, making him squeal like a little girl from the surprise.

"Rodney!" Sheppard roared: "Step away from the light!"

"I... I can't.." Rodney answered, feeling utterly peculiar. He could move, but he didn't want to. By all means he should freak out right now, but he didn't. His eyes were locked on the monitor in front of him, as it flickered and adjusted for a second before something truly unbelievable came into view.

"Is that... what I think it is?!" John Sheppard breathed as he too was caught by the images that seemed to be broadcasted from the very insides of Rodney McKay. Even Ronon raised his eyebrows.

There on the screen, an unborn baby was moving lazily, tiny hands and feet tucked up to its chest.

"It's a... it's a baby..!" Rodney gasped, jaw dropping as he watched and counted ten fingers and toes, from images that were crystal clear and entirely different from the ultrasound device Carson had back at the infirmary."

"It's not just any baby, Rodney," Sheppard gaped: "It's the baby inside _you_!" The image on the screen stirred and a tiny foot shot out, making Rodney jump.

"I felt that!!" he yelled, eyes darting back and fort for a second before he looked up with brilliant realisation dawning in his eyes: "So _THAT's_ what those are!" He'd often felt small twinges down in his stomach when he was settling down for the night, but he'd written it off as indigestion.

"Weird," Ronon concluded, stating what they all felt.

"I guess you don't have to wonder whether it's a boy or a girl anymore," John smirked.

"Huh?" Rodney was too caught up in watching a tiny face suck on a delicate thumb.

"Between his legs..." John sighed, aiming towards the screen.

"Oh, indeed…" Was all Rodney was able to say as his eyes darted downwards.

They were heading back to the control room a few minutes later, all three with enlightened looks on their faces, walking as in a spell.

"That has to be the weirdest experience of my life!" John Sheppard mused, finally breaking the awed silence.

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Rodney's voice was as distant as his thoughts. To see what actually was hiding beneath his skin... The experience had been unnerving to say the least. It looked so tiny, yet so perfect. A perfect little human being, growing inside him, not at all looking like the parasite Rodney had imagined.

"McKay, this is the control room, come in," Radek Zelenka's voice sparked into the intercom.

"This is McKay, go ahead," Rodney answered, after Ronon nudged his shoulder.

"The Deadalus just arrived from earth," the voice reported.

"Yes, it was scheduled to arrive today, so what?" Rodney replied, feeling a little irritated. Surely they were able to dock a spaceship without his assistance.

"There's someone here who wants to see you," Radek answered, a chuckle revealing his amusement.

"To see me? Who could that be?" Rodney pondered as the stepped into the transporter. Seconds later he stepped out into the control room only to be greeted with a happy shriek.

"Meredith!" Jumping in front of him with arms flailing was his sister Jeannie, worn and torn after eighteen days of travel on the Deadalus.

"Jeannie?!" Rodney howled, looking like he was about to jump back into the transporter.

"Oh, this is priceless!" Sheppard sniggered, and even Ronon's mouth twitched with the hint of a smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Rodney squealed, trying to pry the jubilant woman off him. Jeannie shoved off him with an offended glare.

"I've been cooped up in a spaceship for eighteen days to give my "back from the dead brother" a surprise visit, and THIS is my welcome?! Aren't you glad to see me?!"

"Of course I am," Rodney yelped, raising his hands: "I'm just... surprised!" Jeannie's eyes trailed down his body and stopped where Rodney expected them to stop, to his great annoyance.

"Not HALF as surprised as I am to see you!" she exclaimed! "Wow, Rodney, you look...fit!" she tried, the corners of her mouth betraying her.

"Doesn't he!" John agreed, a broad grin on his face. "You must be knackered, Mrs. Miller. Why don't you and Rodney head down to his quarters for some catching up?" He gestured for Rodney and Jeannie to start moving.

"That's a great idea, John!" Jeannie agreed, already tugging Rodney's hand.

"Come on! I can bunk on your sofa," she chirped, shoving her bag into Rodney's baffled arms.

"Actually, there's some beautiful guest quarters down on level 14 that might suit your..."

"Nonsense, Rodney. We have a lot of catching up to do! I only have a week here, and then I'm stuck for another eighteen days of boring hyperspace," Jeannie laughed. Rodney just managed to shoot Sheppard a frightful glare before he was pushed back into the transporter again.

Dear God, Jeannie... Rodney hadn't shed his sister a single thought since he had stepped foot back on Atlantis. He'd been so busy dealing with every curve ball fate had thrown at him lately, that he forgot the simple things, like family. Seeing her face made him remember a video feed he'd received from her two months ago. He hadn't seen it yet...

"Shoot!" he mumbled.

"What?" Jeannie asked, her face beaming.

"Uh, nothing..." His sister looked up at him, touching his cheek with light fingers.

"I thought I'd never see you again, Mer," she whispered, tears starting to appear in her eyes. Rodney shrugged, as always cumbersome in such situations.

"You know me, harder to kill than a cockroach!" he remarked and plastered a crooked smile on his lips. He wasn't able to meet her gaze for very long...

Why now, of all the times his sister would choose to come on a surprise visit to the Pegasus galaxy, why now?!? As if his feelings weren't enough in turmoil as it was, now he would have to explain it all to Jeannie. Jeannie, a mother…

They went down the hallway in awkward silence, and Rodney felt her joy falter slowly as his presence didn't seem to give her what she'd expected. Rodney wondered if he would be able to sustain a whole week as a disappointment to her.

They entered his quarters, and Rodney meekly apologized for the mess. Jeannie shrugged and put a fake smile on her face as she headed for the bathroom.

"Do you mind if I take a quick shower? It's just... I've been on the road for eighteen days and I need to freshen up a bit," she said, an apologetic frown on her face.

"Sure. Take the time you need," Rodney told her, not knowing how to greet her the way she deserved.

"Ready for some catching up afterwards?" she asked him, patting his arm.

"Of course, sis," he answered, hands in his pockets.

He let out silent sigh of relief as the door to the bathroom closed behind her. This would be the longest week of his life. He caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror, groaning with humiliation by the mere sight of himself. He looked ridiculous, like someone had shoehorned him into the tack vest he was wearing. So much for the macho action hero he'd felt like a few a couple of hours ago...

Jeannie found him at the same spot she'd left him half an hour later, desperately tugging at the same tack vest.

"I can't seem to get it off!" he grumbled, arms stuck over his head.

"Here, let me help you," she offered.

"Ouch, careful!" he whimpered.

"Oh, stop being such a baby!" she replied and wrenched the vest off him together with what felt like most of the skin on the left side of his face.

"OOOW!" Rodney jumped away from his attacker and toppled backwards through the room, stumbling by the foot of the bed and ending flat out on his back like a stranded whale.

"Trouble with the balance lately, Humpty?" Jeannie smirked and jumped over to join her brother, slumping down on the bed right beside his head. After a lot of squirming and huffing Rodney finally sat up beside her, panting lightly as he rested the weight of his upper body on his arms.

"You alright?" she asked him, concern lining her features. "You've put on quite a bit of weight, Rodney."

"So you noticed now, did you?!" Rodney rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to have this conversation right now. She was reading him carefully, eyes lingering on that godforsaken stomach of his.

"What are you not telling me, Rodney?" There was a sensitivity in her voice so tender that Rodney's hands started to tremble. He lurched forwards, not daring to look her in the eye.

"Back when I was captured... I was researched on," he told her quietly. She took his hand in her as he haltingly continued:

"Sheppard and the rest of the team rescued me six months later, but not in time. Beckett discovered the device shortly after they brought me back, and I was told about it some weeks ago."

"Told what, Rodney?" Jeannie was watching him so intently Rodney was sure she could feel his cheeks burning. He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"He told me I was pregnant..." She dropped his hand like it was a hot poker.

"He said what?!" she exclaimed, drawing away from him: "You're surly not implying that you're..."

"Pregnant? Oh yes I am, Jeannie. Still glad you came?" Rodney got to his feet and started to pace tiredly around like he always did when in distress.

"They grew some kind of organic device inside me that functions as a womb, and implanted a foetus."

"But why?!?" Jeannie gaped, mouth open with disbelief.

"Why? For the kicks of it?! How the hell would I know?!" Rodney yelled. He could feel her staring at his stomach like it was some cancerous boil and he didn't blame her one bit.

"Alright, calm down, Mr. Snappy!" she barked, jumping to her feet and charging over the floor straight to him. "Stand still!" she ordered.

Surprised by her outburst, Rodney stopped in his track, looking at her with a confused expression on his face.

"So, let me se if I've got this right," she said, looking up at him with soft eyes.

"You're pregnant." Rodney sighed heavily and nodded. She shrugged a little and continued:

"With an alien?"

"What?! No!"

"With what then?" she asked him, arms now placed fondly on his shoulders. He finally dared to meet her gaze, looking down at her with a fearful sorrow in his eyes.

"With... a baby." The frown on her face diminished slowly, her features softening as she accepted her brother's new condition within a heartbeat.

"Meredith Rodney McKay," she murmured: "you never stop to amaze me." Rodney's breath caught in his chest, he was truly amazed of his little sister's open mind.

He didn't know what to say, lost for words, lost of thoughts, as the intercom sparked to life in his ear. It was a very annoyed Carson Beckett.

"Rodney McKay, you get your butt to the infirmary right now!" he barked like a Scottish drill sergeant.

"What? Why?!" Rodney broke free from his sister's almost adoring gaze. "I don't have a scheduled check-up until tomorrow!"

"You've been scanned with some kind of ancient device, Rodney. Has it even occurred to you that this machine might affect you, _and_ the..."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Rodney cut him off.

"What is it?" Jeannie asked: "being whiffed away on an important mission, maybe? I'll give you a hand with the gear," she added, indicating the tack vest with a smug grin.

"Nah, I have to go to the infirmary for a check-up," Rodney sighed. He was dog tired, and the promise of a concerned Carson hovering over him doing all sorts of tests wasn't exactly what he would've chosen right now. But at least he could prolong the "catching up" with his sister.

"It won't take more than an hour or two, feel free to make yourself at home while I…"

"Oh no, I'm coming with you Mister!"

Oh, this should be rich...

_________________________________________________________________

Carson was tapping his foot impatiently as Rodney rounded the corner and stepped into the infirmary with his sister close at heel.

"Finally!" The doctor snapped, then spotted Jeannie and lightened up with a delighted smile.

"Jeannie! You've arrived!" He ran over and gave her a hug.

"You knew?!" Rodney squealed, indignation rising in his cheeks instantly.

"Of course he did, silly. It was his suggestion I should come here!" Jeannie laughed as Carson patted her cheek.

"His what?!" Rodney quacked.

"You were pretty down for a while, and I thought a visit from your baby sister would help you get back on your feet," Carson explained, a hearty smile on his face, not minding the scowl Rodney was aiming at him.

He walked over to the examination table with a sour pout on his face, feeling betrayed by his friend.

"You could've warned me," he wheezed as he clumsily lay down on his back, making sure his sister was out of hearing range.

"So you could've said no? I don't think so," Carson tittered, his eyes beaming boyishly.

"This will be good for you, Rodney." Rodney didn't respond, he turned his glare to the ceiling, determined to sulk for the remaining time in the infirmary.

Jeannie was all over the lab, looking at everything and with a face lit up with childish excitement.

"Don't touch anything!" Rodney growled.

"Relax, grumpy!" Jeannie headed over to the bed, and sat down to watch Carson draw blood from Rodney's arm.

"Bloodtests?"

"Yup. I'm going to run a few diagnostics." Carson filled two more vials before he labelled them and sat them aside.

"You two are so adorable together, you should be a couple!" Jeannie chuckled as she watched Carson lean over to his station to get a sphygmomanometer.

"What?!" Rodney squealed.

"Look at you two, you're like an old married couple!" she gave Rodney a sly grin. Carson was more than willing to play along.

"He did kiss me once, you know," he told her, beaming cheekily. Rodney shot his jaw out in defence.

"Oh no, I didn't! That was Lt. Cadman! She just borrowed my body once," he explained, as if such was a daily occurrence in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Still, it was your lips on mine, so technically..." Carson started.

"Will you get this examination over with already! I have important stuff to do back in my quarters!" Rodney demanded through gritted teeth.

"Time for your blood pressure then, hon. Sit up please," Carson instructed, with a poorly hidden smirk. Rodney did as he was told, still glaring out into thin air. He allowed the doctor to attach the blood pressure cuff snugly to his arm, knowing only too well he was about to be scolded alive. There was a tense few seconds while Carson was listening to his pulse through a stethoscope, and just as he thought, there the vein on Carson's throat was starting to grow.

"161/101?! I told you to take it easy this week, Rodney!" Carson looked like he was about to tug his hair off.

"I have!" Rodney wailed. Carson gave him a stern look, but his face soon softened.

"Alright then," he straightened his back: "off with your shirt." Rodney looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

"What?"

"Take off your shirt. I need to listen to your heart and lungs," Carson told him, looking a little confused.

"We do this every time on your checkups..."

"Not when my _sister_'_s_ around!" Rodney whined, suddenly feeling very awkward.

"Oh, come on!" Jeannie moaned: "It's not like I'm going to see your willie or anything!" she shot Carson an amused look: "Or will I?" They both laughed heartily, while Rodney was not as amused. He felt stupid enough, dragging along all this excess weight, he was not comfortable with showing anyone the damage.

"Rodney, I'm pretty sure your sister's seen you without a shirt before..." Carson told him gently.

"Yeah, well not like this!" Rodney shot back, grabbing the edge of his shirt firmly. He was not about to show off his embarrassment.

"Oh, all right then, I'll leave, you big baby!" Jeannie moaned and rolled her eyes. She stalked out of the room in the exact same way she did when she was annoyed as a kid.

Finally! Rodney let out a growl of contempt and raised his shirt.

"Oh, stop fussing, big boy," Carson complained: "I thought you'd be happy to see her."

"Like this?!" Rodney replied, tapping his stomach. "Yeah sure! Hey, Jeannie- I'm back from the dead, and hey, I picked up a parasite along the way!"

"She, we, believed you were gone, Rodney. To have you come back from the dead, it meant more to us than you care to imagine." Carson told him solemnly.

"Yeah well, she could've come visit me in a couple of months time then," Rodney barked: "when all of this is over!" Something in Carson's eyes shifted, for a split second. Most wouldn't even noticed it, but Rodney did. His eyes widened as Carson's gaze pulled away from his own.

"Oh my god!" he whispered: "You're not sure I'm going to survive this, are you!" The fear and guilt in Carson's eyes told it all.

"You were a bit touch and go back there," he tried, but Rodney saw right through him.

"No. You're not sure I'm going to make it, even now!" He dragged his shirt down with dazed movements, as the room started to glaze out of focus.

"You sent for my sister so that she would be able to meet me a last time if I didn't make it through..."

"Rodney.." There was a prayer in Carson's voice, but Rodney was too distraught to pay his friend any attention.

"What is it then, tell me! Am I going to die while lobbing around on this bugger, or while trying to squeeze it out, huh?!"

"Rodney," Carson whispered: "I'm doing everything that is in my power to get you safely through this..."

"Yeah, that doesn't quite fill me with warm fuzzy feelings right now, Beckett!" Rodney snapped, trying to get off the examination table. Carson's arms flew towards him to try and steady him as he pounded his feet to the floor, but he wisely retracted them as the scientist shrugged him off.

"I've told you, again and again, Rodney. This is dangerous!" Carson sighed, trying to reason with the man currently stomping around on the infirmary floor.

"Yes, but you've never mentioned the D-word!" Rodney muttered: "I thought you felt confident that I would pull through this!"

"Of course you'll pull through this!" Carson yelled helplessly: "But it doesn't mean that I don't... fear the opposite at times. I'm just one man, Rodney. What if something happens to you again, where I can't reach you? No matter how hard I prepare you, or myself for that matter, times come when I can't help you. You nearly died in that transporter a few weeks ago!"

Was that actual tears in Carson's eyes? Rodney stopped, terrified by Carson's display of emotion.

"I'm a grown man, Carson, I can take care of myself!" he growled.

"Can you, Rodney? You're a stubborn, close-minded old goat who takes advice very poorly! What good would it do that I can help you further down the line when this baby is to be born, if you get yourself killed in the meantime?!"

"Find someone else to baby-sit, Carson." Rodney didn't look back as he left the room.

The rest of the evening was a lumbering disaster, with Rodney in a murderous mood, and Jeannie not understanding why. Rodney was half expecting Carson to come charging down the door with a thousand apologies and didn't know if he was pleased or disappointed when no such thing happened. He tossed and turned helplessly through the night, until his sister finally got fed up with his groans and snarls and left to find some guest quarters to sleep in. Within him his little impostor was also acting restless, almost as if it was feeding off its host's bad mood.

Without really knowing why and how, Rodney got up, pulled on some pants and hit the hallways. He didn't regain his senses before he was staring at a pale faced Carson Beckett, who was squinting at him from the doorway to his quarters.

"It's late, Rodney." The doctor looked exhausted.

"Trouble sleeping," Rodney growled and stalked inside the room.

"Yeah... me to..." Carson admitted, following him inside with tired movements.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked. Rodney gave him a long look, closed his eyes and thought about it for a moment. Then he slowly started to pull off his pants and he sat down on Carson's bed with a gawky expression on his face.

"Raising the odds," he answered, voice trembling with both fear and apology.

Rodney could hear Carson's breath catch as he slowly approached the bed.

"You sure?" He was waiting for a green light.

"Yes," Rodney murmured, already under the covers: "but no spooning!"

He awoke the next morning, feeling almost rested. By his right side Carson was snoring away, probably wondering in his sleep what strange need of comfort had possessed his friend last night. Frankly, Rodney didn't know for himself. But it had felt safe to have Carson there, to hear his breath, to know that he was by his side if anything should happen. Maybe it was the renewed fear that had been planted in him last night, Rodney didn't know.

But he suddenly felt very mortal after last night's confrontation with Carson. It had been devastating to watch the one he trusted to keep his head above the water having trouble treading the water himself, and Rodney now knew he'd asked too much of him.

He pushed out of bed with a silent grunt, a slight fever coating his skin. He was fed up with feeling weak and useless, he was tired of the migraines, the heartburns, and all the other aches and pains that followed in the trail of his condition. But there were five more weeks to go, give or take a week or two, and by the way this accelerated he probably would feel pretty darn sick by the end of it. Maybe he should tell Carson about the constant ache deep down in his gut, and perhaps his nausea was a sign of something more serious? The migraines that he'd kept to himself were slowly increasing, and his body temperature was more or less permanently elevated. As a raging hypochondriac it surprised Rodney why he kept all of this to himself. Normally he would nag about any little scratch and tear, he would run down Carson's office with questions, suggestions and diagnosis's he wanted confirmed. But this time he kept silent about everything that caused him discomfort, although Carson had stated a firm suspicion about most of his symptoms.

The face in the bathroom mirror glared back at him with tired eyes. He scratched a stubbled cheek and watched the receding hairline that had been bugging him for years. To think that there actually had been a time when his hair was on the top of his worries list... And now look where he was, hiding in the bathroom of his best friend, because he'd been too afraid to sleep in his own bed last night.

Rodney discovered his cheeks were turning wet, and a helpless smile spread on his face.

"Now isn't that a pathetic sight," he mumbled to himself.

Half an hour later Rodney crept out of Carson's room and snuck down to his own quarters, looking like he was a fugitive on the run. Minutes earlier he'd tried to sneak out without waking Carson, but failing miserably. The doctor had jumped out of bed, eager to follow Rodney to the door. Carson even had had the nerve to smack him on the butt as he was leaving, fluttering his eyelids like a Prima Donna.

"You're starting to make a habit of our nightly rendezvous', Rodney boy."

"Oh shut up! I only came because Jeannie was hogging the covers!" Rodney shot back. Jeannie never spent a second in the same bed as him last night, but Carson didn't need to know that.

"Should I leave my door unlocked tonight, then?" Carson sniggered.

"It's the hormones!" he had howled and set off down the hallways like a sturdy steam train.

He thought he was all clear as he dialled the code to his private quarters, but fate made sure for his sister to catch him red handed. She rounded the corner right as he was to step foot inside and gave an incriminating girly squeal that promised questions and speculations galore.

"Rodney, you sneaky bugger! Where did you spend the night, brother dear?" she looked positively giddy with a thousand theories.

"Nowhere!" Rodney shot back, an irritated scowl on his face as he trotted into his quarters. Jeannie followed him inside, did a quick Sherlock Holmesy scan of the room and pointed out:

"Well, you've not slept here!"

She and that irritating female intuition of hers!

"I've just been to the... infirmary!" Rodney lied, as he was rummaging through his closet to find a fresh T-shirt and a pair of pants.

"No, you haven't! You left your earpiece here in your quarters, and you never take it off other than when you go to bed at night," she pointed out, quite superior as she was pointing on the damn thing. It was still there at his bed stand, where he'd left it the other night. Rodney had the courtesy not to swear out loud.

"Oh my, Rodney!" she suddenly gasped: "You've been sleeping with Carson haven't you!" she exclaimed, face lighting up like a light bulb. Rodney could feel his jaw drop.

"No, I have _NOT_ slept with Carson!" he denied, a little to fast.

"You've shared bed with him!" she decided, eyes narrowing with concentration as she was reading him.

"What?! How... That's... It's not... We didn't spoon or _anything_!" he stuttered, cheeks growing scarlet red within a heartbeat.

"Brother dear, I don't mind if you're gay or anything. It would explain a lot actually!"

"Explain _WHAT_?!?" Rodney shrieked.

"Why you're so appallingly awkward around women," she teased, eyes twinkling with sibling mockery.

Rodney opened his mouth for a verbal comeback, but he was left standing with his mouth wide open. The insulted scowl on his face swept away as he was conquered by warm eyes and an endearing smile that soon grew into a wholehearted laugh.

"You actually might have a point!" he chuckled, and surprised them both as he started laughing himself.

Twenty minutes later they left for the mess hall to have breakfast, still sniggering and teasing each other. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed and had silly little joke arguments like he'd had with his sister when they were younger.

They were the last ones to arrive at the breakfast table. Ronon, Teyla, John and Carson were already sitting there, chatting about everything and nothing.

"Hey there, Big Boy and Sister, have seats," John greeted them and stole a glance at Rodney's food tray.

"Sure you're not eating for three?" Rodney barely raised an eyebrow at John's comment.

"I heard Zelenka did some follow up research on the device we found down in level 3?" John continued, addressed to Ronon who was attacking a chicken leg like a caveman.

"Yup," Ronon affirmed: "he fainted when the screen showed him what he believed to be a ten pounds kidney stone."

"Pffff! Try seeing a ninety pounds baby," Rodney commented, unimpressed.

"I bet Carson here's eager to get his greedy little hands on the device," he continued, sending a smirk across the table, while chomping down on some toast.

"To see the quirky insides of that body of yours in full Technicolor? Nah, I think I'll stick to good old fashioned Ultrasound, thank you very much!" Carson shot back, a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth.

"What have you done to our Rodney boy here, Jeannie? He's almost not grumpy today!" Sheppard sent Rodney another wry grin, but once more McKay didn't bite. He was munching happily on some bacon and eggs, a trail of crumbs running down his chest and stopping on top of a protruding stomach.

"You know Rodney, boost his ego and he will shine like a star for the rest of the day," Jeannie replied smugly as she looked at him with kind eyes.

"So, is it a niece or a nephew?" she suddenly asked, almost making Rodney stab the food tray with his fork.

"Nephew," Sheppard answered her, grinning boyishly. Rodney dropped a handful of grapes.

"It's a _boy!_" he wheezed, glaring at John. "It's not a nephew, it's a _**boy**__!_"

"What do you mean, Rodney?" A confused frown appeared on Jeannie's brow.

"I'm just saying... When you call it nephew it sounds like I'm, I'm..." Rodney's voice trailed off, his eyes growing distant.

"Like he's my _nephew_, yes." Jeannie pointed out. John, Teyla, Carson and Ronon suddenly got very interested in researching the residue lurking at the bottom of their food trays. It was like a storm cloud just had appeared from clear sky and was now hovering over their heads. Rodney's breath grew ragged as he met his sister's gaze.

"Jeannie, please," he begged, eyes full of emotion too deep to fathom. The frown on Jeannie's brow grew deeper.

"What are you implying Rodney, that you don't want to keep it?!" she asked him incredulously.

"Keep it?" Rodney squealed, pushing back on his chair: "_HELL NO!"_

"Oh, look at the time!" Sheppard announced, a little too loud and a little too cheerily. "Off world mission, have to go guys!" And with a whiff he and the others had disappeared, even Carson who had no such missions on his schedule the next nine weeks.

The two siblings were left to glare at each other.

"So you're giving it up then, just like that?! Your own flesh, your own blood?!" Jeannie barked, anger on behalf of the unborn boiling behind every word. Rodney's face went from frustration and sorrow to naked fury.

"_My_ flesh?! _My_ blood?! I'm sorry, has Carson given you some information he haven't bothered to show me?!" Rodney snarled. "There's not even been proved that I share a single string of DNA with this thing! This pregnancy was forced upon me, I had no _CHOICE_ in the matter. Do you really think I would've stayed pregnant if I had any say in it, and that I would've even considered keeping the result of such a violation?!"

And there it was, the all too familiar look of resentment growing on her face.

"Actually, yes, Meredith. I truly believed you were going through with this by own choice. I thought there was a man inside you who saw the amazing opportunity to give this little one a chance in the world." She actually had the nerve to point at his crumb covered belly.

"I assure you, I'm _not_ that man, and that _THIS_ baby is much better off without me!" Rodney spat back. He was leaning over the table, his teeth snarling.

Jeannie's angry glare grew cold, and she shook her head as she got up to leave.

"I believed you'd decided to put someone else first instead of your self for once. I guess I was wrong," she told him silently, her face pale with disappointment. "I can see you haven't changed much after all..."

Rodney could do nothing but to se her walk away, feeling smaller than a neutron.

He kept to himself for the rest of that day, feebly trying to do some research down in his lab. But his frustration got the better of him and he failed miserably every time he tried to wrap his mind around the work at hand. When Radek Zelenka finally found him attacking his laptop with a power bar he decided it was best to call it a day. But he didn't dare to go back to his quarters, afraid that Jeannie might be waiting there for him in an ambush. He'd never seen her so upset before, and he'd never felt smaller in her presence. It wasn't an experience he ever wanted to repeat.

She was a mother, and therefore all life now had become divine for her. How could Rodney deny himself the joy she found in her little girl, Madison? How could he abandon this life just like that? Oh, Rodney knew what she was thinking all right, that was what had scared the life out of him last night when she came charging into his arms. She would never understand.

The kid would suffer if he kept it. Rodney McKay wasn't cut out to be a father, or at least not like this. Sure, the thought of starting a family had tingled his mind from time to time, but first he would need someone to start that family with. Someone who was willing to ignore his many flaws and shortcomings as a human being... All he had to show for on that account the last year was a short and miserable courtship of the botanist Katie Brown. In the end she had been to shy, and he had been to... McKay.

A life as a single parent was no option, and given his history with children Rodney was convinced the kid would hate him from first sight.

And besides, it was all... unnatural. Men weren't supposed to bear children, let alone give birth to them, and Rodney was supposed to do both during the following weeks. There was no way he was signing the rest of his life up as well. Both he and this thing hiding inside him would be better off if they both went their separate ways after all of this was done. Jeannie would never understand that. She was a mother in breath and body, her whole world revolved around little Madison.

He wished he could feel as strongly about something in his life, but not even his scientific achievements came even close to what Jeannie was radiating to the world in the shape of a mother.

He had nothing to offer a child.

Rodney was lurking down in his lab until early night. Then he finally dared to head back to his quarters, dreading what he might meet behind every corner. But no Jeannie was waiting to attack him in the hallways; no Jeannie was even hiding under his bed when he breathlessly slumped into his room ten minutes later. Rodney was so relieved he moaned as he sunk down on the office chair by his desk. Tomorrow. He would sort things out with her tomorrow.

The following morning he got out of bed, quite certain he would convince Jeannie to listen to reason. Sure, she was wild tempered, stubborn and a know it all like him, but he'd usually been able to talk things out with her when she'd gotten the chance to calm down. And just as he was struggling to drag a shirt on over his back there was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" he sang, adjusted his hair confidently and strolled over to activate the door. The door swished open, and Rodney's knowing smile froze, and then faltered slightly into a crooked grimace as he discovered that it was Carson Beckett and not his sister that was waiting for him in the hallway.

"Carson, what a pleasant surprise..." Rodney plastered a somewhat polite grin on his face. Then he noticed the strained expression on the Doctor's face and went pale in a heart beat.

"Oh no, something's wrong with me, I knew it!"

"Rodney," Carson started, but Rodney had already grabbed his collar and dragged him inside with a fierce pull.

"What is it, is it that god forsaken X- ray machine we found?" Rodney demanded, arms zigg zagging in the air.

"No..."

"Oh _god_, my hips are to slim, aren't they!" Rodney shrieked, patting his hips. "I knew it! I don't have lady hips, how the hell will I be able to pass an orange, let alone a _BABY_ through..."

"Rodney!" Carson barked, placing two firm hands on Rodney's shoulders: "Jeannie's leaving!"

"What?! That cannot be right! She's scheduled for return on the Deadalus in five days," Rodney replied, face bathing in confusion. Carson sighed.

"Weir was called up last night, and is scheduled to go to earth to give a report to the I.O.A. on the latest Wraith attack, and since she's authorized to use the Intergalactic Gate Bridge Jeannie was able to hitch a ride." Rodney's face went distant, eyes trailing helplessly around the room.

"She's leaving..?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry Rodney. She came to me after your fight, very upset. I tried to convince her to stay, but she wouldn't listen. She went on and on about some huge argument you had four years ago and that she wasn't going to stay here and watch you do what she hadn't four years ago. She's scheduled for departure in five minu..." Rodney's hand shot up to his chin, where he activated the intercom.

"McKay to the control room; Stop the gate, right away!" he yelled and headed for the door.

"The gate's been activated, Sir. Dr. Weir and Mrs. Miller are just about to step through the iris."

"Stall them!"

"The energy drain..." the voice hesitantly replied.

"Stall them, dammit! I'm coming up!" Rodney yelled as he was charging down the hallways.

"Calm down, Rodney, your pulse..." Carson was jogging after him with a worried look on his face.

"It's just a brisk walk over to the transporter, I can make it!" Rodney puffed, perspiration already beading on his forehead.

"But it's not just a brisk walk. You're upset, Rodney, your pulse is about to shoot through the roof."

"Knock me out if I start to convulse then!" Rodney snapped and quickened his pace.

He was about to rip the door to the transporter open with his bare hands as he was beamed to the control room.

"Jeannie, WAIT!" he yelled, desperation painting his steps as he came storming out of the transporter. She was just a few steps behind Elizabeth, both on their way towards the gate. Although she stopped when she heard his call, Jeannie didn't turn around to face him. He stumbled the remaining feet of ground between them and grabbed her arm sheepishly.

"Don't go Jeannie, please don't go."

Finally she turned around, an honest but severe look in her face.

"Why, Rodney. Tell me why I shouldn't go."

"I... I... need you to understand..." he mumbled awkwardly. He didn't want to have this conversation here, surrounded by so many people.

"Understand what, that you're too coward to take a challenge, too coward to make a change for the better in your life?" He looked at her, trying so hard to understand her anger and disappointment, but failing miserably.

"Is that what you think this is for me, a challenge?" he snarled, teeth baring and spit flying as the anger started building up in him yet again.

"I was kept in a _cage_ for six months, Jeannie! What do you think that does to your mind?! And how the hell would you react if you woke up one day five months pregnant when it's literally impossible?! I can't stand the thought of this _THING_ inside me, and knowing there's nothing I can do with it. Sure, your pregnancy wasn't exactly planned either, but at least Madison wasn't the result of rape and torture!"

Jeannie said nothing, just looked at him with a mixture of sorrow and loathing. He felt so small, standing there, tugging her arm with the whole control room watching.

"I know I'm not a strong man, and I know I… I..." For once Rodney was lost for words. Jeannie shook her head sadly, tears appearing in her eyes.

"You fail to see the bigger picture here, Rodney. I hate those who did this to you with ever fibre of my heart, but you can't turn your back on the other innocent bystander in all of this." She cupped his face with trembling hands:

"Rodney, don't you get it? I see this child as a blessing for you, a chance for you to turn your life around, to achieve a greater purpose in life. You deserve something more than the petty achievements you receive on the science field. I'm afraid you're tossing the greatest opportunity of your life out the window if you go through with this."

"I have nothing to offer a child," he stated meekly, not even offended by her blatant harassment of the passion he harboured for his work.

"Remember four years ago when our roles were reversed?" Jeannie told him calmly: "You told me I was making the biggest mistake of _my_ life. You were so disappointed with me that you walked right out of my life and I didn't hear from you until four years later when you needed my help. I was so afraid I was making the wrong choice and I often wondered if it was worth loosing you over, but I can tell you today that I haven't regretted my decision for a second! I stuck with my decision, I kept my baby and I proved you _wrong_ for once. Parenthood is the greatest experience of my life. So this is me returning the favour: You're about to make the biggest mistake of _your_ life!"

"Jeannie..." He was starting to feel dizzy and his vision was slowly blurring. He was trying so hard to find the right words...

"Mrs. Miller, the gate will shut down shortly. Are you coming with me?" Weir's voice was nothing but friendly, but Rodney felt like punching her in the face never the less.

"Stay," he whispered, no longer able to read her face.

"I'm sorry Rodney." he felt her hands let go of his face, and watched her helplessly as she stepped away from him, turned and headed for the gate. The silence in the control room was almost too much to bear for the scientist.

He waited until she'd disappeared through the iris, then he turned towards where he believed Carson standing, face draining of colour.

"Knock me out," he muttered, and doubled over in pain.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Back in the infirmary... Rodney groaned as he was greeted with a blistering headache and a new bump on the head. Distress had gotten the better of him again then... Lucky Carson was there, and that he had the sense to yank Radek's tablet out of his hands and put it to good use once more.

Stirring slightly he fumbled against something pressed towards his face and discovered a breathing mask. Asphyxia no longer being a threat to his life he pushed it off with a dismayed grunt.

"You have to stop doing this, Rodney."

And there he was, his gnawing bad conscience, complete with a doctor's frock and concerned scowl, all wrapped in a Scottish accent. Rodney gave an annoyed snort before he turned his back to him. He was not in the mood for a lecture.

"Just take it easy, OK?" There was a pat on his shoulder and the lingering presence of a concerned friend.

"She doesn't understand," Rodney mumbled, glaring at the white wall.

"I don't think any of us can fully understand, Rodney," Carson's voice was soft and underlined with much more compassion than he would admit. Rodney's ears caught the sound of a tired body sitting down on a chair behind him.

"I just want it over and done with so I can go on with my life and forget it ever happened," Rodney muttered. As on demand his impostor started to move around. He never got used to that sensation of something slithering around inside him, the occasional push and shove, and the rare case of something that oddly reminded him of hiccups. Rodney silently doubted it would be room for it to grow for another five weeks, he already felt stuffed like a bloody piñata.

"Stop squirming!" he growled.

"Huh?" Carson shifted uneasily on his chair.

"Not you, _it!"_ Rodney snarled and gestured towards his raving stomach.

"Oh." Carson understood. There was a hesitant pause before he continued.

"Yeah, he's quite active today. I took an ultrasound while you... were out. The lad was doing the Macarena inside you." Rodney could actually hear the smile in his voice.

"Whoppdifrikkindoo!" He shifted in a fierce, grumpy motion, hoping that would calm down the rummaging inside him, but it only empowered it. Soon he was grunting in unease as something was taking a stab at his ribs.

"He's sensing your duress, Rodney. If you calm down, he will calm down."

"It's going to be a long night then..." Rodney mumbled. He dragged the covers firmly over his chest, a feeble attempt at covering up the evidence of his embarrassment. For the longest while the only sounds in the room were the sounds of the two men's breathing and the small bleeps of the heart monitor keeping track of Rodney's heart rate. Finally Carson was starting to move on his seat, probably wanting to leave. Heart on his sleeve Rodney finally dared to ask the question he'd been dreading since the day he learned about his condition.

"Do you think... I should keep it?" The question was a mere tremble of sound. Carson hesitated before he answered, Rodney could almost hear the little wheels turning around inside that Scottish head of his. Rodney closed his eyes as he braced himself.

"I don't know... probably... I guess I've gotten a bit attached to the little tyke during all the ultrasounds." A chuckle escaped Carson's throat before he could stop himself.

"I'm sorry," He added hurriedly: "I didn't mean to..."

"Of course you'd want me to keep it," Rodney mumbled into the wall: "even if it had three eyes, no nose, green skin and gills, you'd want me to keep it. Heck, if it'd been you in this situation you would've kept it in a heartbeat!"

"I can't know that for sure, Rodney..."

"No, but I know. You're like that. And you'd even be good at it."

"Be good at what?"

"Fatherhood." The word was barely a whisper. Rodney crept even further into himself, visibly shrinking in front of the Doctor's eyes.

"She left me, Carson... Just like I left her four years ago."

"She'll come round, Rodney." There was little comfort in Carson's words.

Rodney himself had walked out of Jeannie's life when he'd found out she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. How could he blame her if she did the same to him? She had every right to. That had always been the greatest difference between the two, her need to have a family, and his need to have a career. They would both sacrifice what the other cherished to achieve their goal. For Rodney it was unbelievable that his brilliant minded sister would give up a promising career so easily for something as common and unrewarding as a child. She had the capabilities to become a great scientist, maybe even greater than himself, and to see her tossing away her gift so easily...

Rodney had never quite forgiven her for that, not even after meeting his niece a year ago. She'd been a cute youngster, barely three years old, but Rodney didn't understand children. They were loud and messy, they talked back and they were not to be reasoned with. In many aspects they were much as Rodney himself, blatantly honest no matter how much it might sting the receiver.

"No one's forcing you to keep this child, Rodney. It's up to you," Carson murmured and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Rodney flinched at the touch, but didn't jerk away. He felt pathetic for taking in every drop of comfort his friend bestowed on him. He'd been self reliant since he was a young boy, never having much of a childhood to brag about. His parents had fought like cats and dogs since from when he could remember, and his sibling rivalry with Jeannie had always pushed them both forward in the science field, but as competitors not as colleagues.

"I'd make a lousy father," Rodney confessed, failing to imagine himself even holding a baby: "I'd probably drop it on its head."

"You're too hard on yourself," Carson replied, but without denying Rodney's claim. And why would he? Rodney had no place in his busy schedule for a teething baby, an attention seeking toddler or dealing with a high strung teenager. He was far to busy saving the universe every other day to give a child the attention and love it needed to grow and prosper, he would probably end up a lousier father than his old man...

"I just wish this was over..."

"Why is that, Rodney?" Carson asked, an odd spark in his voice. "Is it because you're forced to think about someone else besides yourself for a change?" It was a blow below the belt, and they both knew it. The heart monitor betrayed him and revealed that Carson had hit a bull's-eye, and that without Rodney even realising it himself.

"I'm tired, Carson. I'm tired of being stared at, pointed at, laughed at behind my back and I'm tired of people treating me like I'm someone else. Before I was the cornerstone of this expedition, my expertise has saved Atlantis from more tight spots than I care to mention." Rodney could have sworn he heard Carson's eyes roll around in their sockets.

"Now I'm nothing. I'm a liability, a weirdo that no one has the heart to return to earth, because we all know I'd be put in a padded room somewhere where no one would hear me scream."

"You only see the bad in people, Rodney. It's about bloody time you stop to see the good in them to!" There was an edge to Carson's voice that stung Rodney deeper than any slap to the face could.

"You may not be the most popular man on this base, but you have a few good friends and they moved heaven and earth to get you back when you went missing. Who cares what the rest of the world thinks of you as long as you have somebody who's got your back?"

"Carson, I..." Rodney's voice trailed off.

"No, Rodney. It's time you wake up and face the music. Yes, this is bloody hard for you, well guess what: it's hard for us to! It's hard for us who consider us your friends to be locked out when we see how you're struggling."

Rodney closed his eyes. He was about to push away the few remaining friends he had left, just like he'd pushed Jeannie through the Stargate.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he croaked.

"Listen." Carson tugged his shoulder, forcing him gently to turn around to face him. Rodney most hesitantly obliged, his eyes looking up at his friend with the kind of scowl a three year old in fear of a reprimand would stick on his face.

"I know you Rodney. You put on this strong front sometimes when you ought to be scared shitless. You normally act like a coward, but when you're put in front of grave danger you always find the courage to pull through. I'm asking you to find that courage now, in stead of hiding in your fear and driving the ones who cares about you away."

Rodney gave his friend a long, solemn look.

"I'm not a brave man, Carson," he confessed, more to himself than to the doctor.

"You are brave when you have to, Rodney." Carson murmured, honest eyes gazing down on him. A doubtful sigh escaped Rodney's throat.

"You're a lot braver than you give yourself credit for." Once more Carson patted his shoulder reassuringly. He was so calm, so convincing he almost had Rodney fooled. It would be wonderful to inhabit this bravery Carson claimed lingered within him, but Rodney seriously doubted there was any hidden strength lurking deep down inside him. He would have needed that back when he was held captive... He was a knocked up freak of nature, backed up into a corner with no way out, that was what he was.

Carson grabbed his hand and yanked him back from his thoughts.

"You're not even complaining about anything anymore, you know that? You're visibly deteriorating in front of my very eyes, but you're not moaning and whining like you normally would. And that the one time when it's vitally important for me to know everything about how you're doing!"

Rodney's breath hitched.

"You _want_ me to complain?!?"

"Of course I bloody do! The bitching is the very core of Rodney McKay," Carson laughed: "in addition to being a brilliant scientist, of course!" he added hurriedly, a huge grin lighting his features. Rodney was so astonished by the sparkle in his friend's eyes he completely forgot to be offended.

"My back is killing me!" he barked, a warm feeling growing in his heart. "And I can't breathe half the time. I can't sleep on my belly anymore, and I love sleeping on my belly! Now I have to settle for sleeping on my side, and still I have to get up six or seven times each night to pee!!"

"There's the McKay I know and cherish," Carson murmured, the smile still lingering in his eyes.


	7. Facts On The Table

**Chapter 7****Facts On The Table**

So he was doing this without his sister then. Just like Jeannie had done without him when she had her baby girl some years ago. But he had a few trusted friends, and in many ways they were his family here in Atlantis. Rodney was glaring at his mirror reflection, taking in the whole pathetic sight of how his new shirt was about to split in the sides, seams screaming for mercy. He dragged the uniform jacket on with barbarous movements, jumped at the sight of something launching a tiny fist of foot towards the stretched fabric, and charged out the door in a deadly mood. Rodney McKay was having a very bad day, and it had only just begun.

He was scheduled for a team meeting today, to discuss his... condition. Ronon, Teyla and John would be attending in addition to Elizabeth and Carson. He had a sneaking suspicion Carson was going to suggest him taking a leave of absence for the remainder of the pregnancy, since it was starting to take greater and greater tow on his body.

Approaching week 37, he was now three weeks away from completing a full term pregnancy. Carson had decided it was finally time to discuss McKay's rapidly advancing condition, and that with the whole team present...

As long as labour wasn't forced or stressed from this stage on, Carson believed Rodney would be able to go ahead for the final stretch... _**birth**_. The five letter word felt as heavy as his body nowadays. Carson hadn't discussed much of the gory details with him on that field, probably fearing the panic attack that would follow. This meeting would probably be filled with all the saucy details of natural birth through unnatural passages, and Rodney wasn't looking forward to it one bit. And he strongly doubted any of his team-mates were any more excited about this meeting than he was.

John Sheppard would rather go in hand to hand combat with a starving wraith than having to attend the meeting regarding the progression of Rodney McKay's infamous condition. It was weird enough dealing with a rampaging, hormonal scientist both as a friend and on a professional level. But to have to sit through Carson Beckett's briefing about the remaining three weeks of the astrophysicist's pregnancy was like being invited to a culling. Painful, dangerous and potentially deadly.

They were all seated around the table in the conference room when the scientist in question came charging in, wearing a scowl on his face and breathing like an asthmatic. He dropped down on the remaining chair, a light sweat glazing his brow.

"Looking good, Rodney," John mused and sent Rodney a smirk and two thumbs up. He cherished the fierce glare he received in return, noting that the old Rodney McKay was still living strong, hormones, pregnancy and all.

"Let's get this over with, I have to go yell at some anthropologists for making a mess of my lab!" Rodney growled, trying most awkwardly to tuck his stomach under the table. John bit back the urge to taunt him about it and gave a very nervous looking Carson a nod.

"I agree. I'm pretty sure we're all eager to get out of here as fast as humanly possible," he added, receiving stiff nods from all around the table.

"Go ahead, Carson," Elizabeth added, giving the doctor a kind smile.

Carson looked like he was about to have an exam in advanced astrophysics with Rodney as his sensor.

"Well, as you all probably have figured out by now, I've called you to this meeting to discuss the remaining three weeks of McKay's... pregnancy," he started, the squeak in his voice revealing his nerves. One look on the snarling scientist opposite him would probably tweak his nerves even further. John couldn't help but smirk, no matter how gauche the situation was.

"As you know, you're approximately approaching your 37th week today, and the foetus inside you is now considered to be about full born. Although stressful situations might still trigger the failsafe device I believe that unforced labour from this point on will not be harmful for nor you or the baby.."

"Believe?" Rodney cut him off: "So you don't know for sure?!"

"Uhm... Given my somewhat miniscule experience with artificial wombs with fail safes and pregnant men I would have to say no..." Carson agreed, a somewhat irked expression growing on his face.

"I'm sorry, but if guessing is the game here, I take it I can take a gander to, huh?!" Rodney continued, chin in the air.

"I'm guessing the next three weeks will be the longest weeks in my whole miserable life, and that I'm the one who has to suffer all the consequences of your rambling voodoo estimates!"

"Relax, Rodney. Carson's the best medical doctor we have on this base," Weir chipped in, nodding reassuringly to Carson.

John watched how Rodney's face grew bright red with indignation, but was surprised to find him actually shutting up.

"Nice one, Elizabeth," he thought and sent her one of his rugged and manly "well done" winks. She looked like she ignored to notice.

Carson took a deep breath and activated the screen hanging behind him, and blurry images of flickering green lights appeared on it.

"This is video footage from the ultrasound we did yesterday," he explained and nodded towards the insulted looking scientist. "The baby now weighs close to 6.5 pounds and looks to be about 20 inches long from head to toe." At this both women in the room gave almost inaudible sighs, the kind of sound John had discovered every woman was supposed to give every time anything baby related were to be mentioned. Ronon and himself, on the other hand, flinched in horror by the thought of something that big and alive was actually growing inside Rodney... And they'd even had the chance to see it in full Technicolor as well! Poor McKay had a pained expression on his face, knuckles whitening as he was gripping the edge of the table.

Pausing for effect, or to summon the stamina to continue Carson took a sip of water and paused the video. He pointed towards something that probably was a very distinct and easy to find (for an MD anyway) blob and continued his lecture:

"Right now the baby's head is cradled down here in the pelvic cavity, where it's surrounded and protected by Rodney's pelvic bones, as you can see here." Carson pointed on some other greenish blobs.

"Much like in a normal pregnancy this position will clear some much needed space for the baby's growing legs and buttocks..." There was a grunt from Rodney who was rubbing his ribs with a flustered expression on his face. John silently wondered if the man was about to throw up.

"You all right?" he asked him, an almost gentle tone in his voice as he leaned over. Rodney nodded, his jaw clenching. Elizabeth and Teyla both turned their maternal instincts towards him with full force.

"We can take a break if you want?" Teyla suggested, as seated next to him she patted his arm.

"I'm fine!" Rodney barked, eyes nailed to the wall ahead of him. Carson shifted uneasily on his feet, looking like he didn't know what to say next. There was a giant pink elephant in the room, and everybody seemed eager to tip toe around it.

How the hell would Rodney be able to... finish? John chewed at his lip for a second before he threw himself in.

"Just _how_ exactly is he going to... do the birth... thingy..." he asked, most awkwardly shooting a look at the suddenly crimson astrophysicist: "Doesn't he lack some... uhm... plumbing for... that?"

"Actually, it's quite ingenious," Carson piped eagerly and sprung back to life. He and put the latest scans of Rodney's internals on the big screen for everybody to see: "The cervix in Rodney's new grown uterus has actually fused with the upper wall of Rodney's rect..."

"They do NOT need to know every little detail about my condition!" Rodney wailed, arms flailing distraughtly in the air, before he stomped promptly out of the room. He probably would've slammed the doors for effect, but all he managed was an angry swishing noise as the door swished open and then shut moments later. Carson shut down the screen, a sheepish look on his face.

"I guess he's not grown a vagina then," John smirked.

"Ouch!" was all Ronon chipped in.

Teyla, who'd always been the more well articulate of the bunch was for once lost for wise words herself.

"Of all the men in the world, it just had to be Rodney McKay..."

Carson rubbed his face and sighed. A stern shade of blue glowed in his eyes as he straightened his back, not looking entertained by the others' amusement on Rodney's behalf. John even felt ashamed before the doctor started to speak.

"You all know this pregnancy isn't without hazards on Rodney's part. He's had to suffer a lot of side effects in addition to the aches and pains usually accommodated with a normal pregnancy. He's running a constant fever as his body treats the pregnancy as an infection and tries to get rid of it. He's often bothered with severe migraines, he suffers from sleep deprivation, his blood pressure is sky rocketing and I bet his entire body is aching from the strain. And then I haven't even mentioned the alien implant inside him with a failsafe device that makes it impossible for us to terminate the pregnancy or deliver the foetus through a C-section. He's forced to go along with this until the pregnancy's run its course, one way or another. He's a man, he's simply not built to carry forth and deliver a baby. There's no guaranties Rodney will even pull through an entire pregnancy, let alone a birth."

And there it was, the doctor's scowl of disappointment that always made John feel one inch tall. He could feel the others around the table cower as well, looking down on their hands in front of them.

"Yes, Rodney is still Rodney, and even more difficult to deal with now than usual, but never the less he needs you more than ever. Think about how afraid you would have been if it were you in his shoes. He's putting on a brave face, but we all know he's scared shitless. You know he never complains when he's _really_ afraid."

John's brow furrowed in confusion as he was slowly realising Carson was right. If Rodney was suffering from half the side effects Carson had just listed he should've nagged them beyond oblivion by now. But he hadn't. There were subtle signs of his discomfort though, that John had chosen to ignore for the peace of his conscience. There was the occasional frown on Rodney's face when he was working, the constant coat of perspiration on his brow. The presence in his eyes seemed more distant nowadays, and there was something lurking deeper in him somehow that John wasn't quite able to grasp. There was the tired way he moved, always out of breath and the way he was just picking at his food, never leaving his tray empty any more.

He was just about to fill in the awkward silence with some gawky and clumsy statements to reveal his complete unnerve regarding the whole situation, when the intercom sparked to life and called everybody to the operations centre.

"Now what!" John Sheppard muttered as he got to his feet, secretly thrilled to escape the conference room.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Sheppard's Alpha team reached the control room just as Major Lorne and his team returned from a recon mission on M7G-677, or "The Planet of Horror" as McKay blatantly had named it. It was a planet inhabited by a settlement of young children and grown ups, the leader of the twelve surrounding villages, Keras, now approximately 26 years old. Sheppard and his team had encountered this planet two years earlier, when their puddle jumper had crashed due to an electromagnetic field protecting the village from wraith attacks.

A zero point module, concealed in an ancient abandoned city, was boosting an energy field which neutralized all forms of electromagnetic energy. And it had drawn the attention of the SGA team.

For centuries this planet had stayed safe from the wraith, partially due to the fact that the entire population engaged in ritual self-sacrifice on the eve of their 25th birthday. Their belief was that the wraith was not able to sense children and young adults, and that they would stay safe as long as they sacrificed their life on the night of their 25th birthday.

The suicides controlled the size of the population and prevented them from migrating beyond the field's perimeter, but the Z.P.M. was chiefly responsible for the settlements' safety. For centuries the villagers did not know that their suicides were only partly responsible. With Rodney's assistance the population was now safely protected once more by the EMP, and was a thriving community that would slowly grow into adulthood.

"Dr. Weir." Lorne wasted no time as he jogged up the stairs up to the control centre and addressed Elizabeth, the leader of the Atlantis Expedition.

"I gather you bring news from Keras and his people?" Elizabeth asked, as she was flanked by John on her left. There was a "ping" from the transporter and Rodney McKay was spit out, tablet at hand and look of importance plastered on his face.

"I'm... still... a viable... asset... to this... team!" he breathed as he marched up to flank Elizabeth's right side, conveniently squeezing Ronon further to the back.

"I'm afraid we have a situation back at M7G-677," Lorne stated, standing broad bent and hands folded in front of him: "The ZPM charging the electromagnetic field that's protecting Kera's people is malfunctioning. We were surprised by a Wraith Dart on a recon mission three hours ago. We were able to shoot it down, but I'm pretty certain the dart still managed to send its coordinates back to the Hive ship it came from, and it's probably a matter of days or hours until the village is culled."

Before anyone managed to respond Rodney was hacking furiously away on his tablet, doing calculations and reciting the usual amount of incredible techno babble under his breath.

"This should not be happening!" he muttered: "My calculations were correct; I even accommodated the size of the force field to grow along with the expanding population over the next century! It should work perfectly fine! There must be some damage to the crystals, there's no other explanation. I need to recalibrate the system and reboot it, and from there I need to reroute the power through..."

"Fascinating, Rodney," Sheppard interrupted: "but you're not going anywhere. We're sending Zelenka!"

"Zelenka went on an off world mission two hours ago and isn't expected back until tomorrow evening," Weir calmly explained, a small frown growing on her face.

"Then I will take my team and Radek to M7G-677 tomorrow evening," John firmly stated. For once he was hoping Rodney's cowardice would do him some good.

"That planet's inhabited by children and young adults," Carson cut in: "they're in no state to defend themselves if the wraith attacks!"

"Carson's right," Weir agreed: "this is a settlement consisting by a juvenile civilisation. It's our moral duty to protect them from potential danger." John did not like the direction this discussion was taking. Elizabeth turned towards Rodney whose concentration was still hooked directly to the tablet in his hands.

"McKay, is there anybody else on this base besides you and Zelenka who can fix this?" she asked him, still with that calm and relaxed voice. Rodney's fingers twitched against the keys for a moment, before he looked up, an expression of fear dawning on his face.

"No," he answered heavily.

"Well, then they will have to wait until tomorrow evening!" John firmly stated, once more.

"No they won't."

John groaned internally as he heard Rodney McKay's voice.

"I'll do it. It's a simple job, for us super geniuses," he added obnoxiously: "it should take two, three, four hours tops. We'll take the puddle jumper to the outskirts of the force field and walk in on foot from there on. We should be able to complete the mission in approximately 12 hours," Rodney estimated after a quick gander at his wrist watch.

"I think you're missing a vital point here, Rambo," John dryly pointed out and poked the scientist's distended gut.

"Carson will come with me," Rodney decided, flustered: "I have legs, and I'm not afraid to use them!"

"Could've fooled me," it came tauntingly from Ronon Dex behind them. John shot Elizabeth a glare for support, but realised to his great surprise that he was outvoted on this one.

"I don't see any other way, John," Elizabeth replied: "It's our sworn duty to protect this young population, and now they are in grave danger. Rodney is the only one capable of helping them right now, and he's willing to give it a try." she turned towards Rodney who'd grown considerably pale for a self announced hero:

"I can't force you to do this, Rodney, it's up to you."

"I know," Rodney answered, paused for a second and then continued: "I'll do it."

"Rodney," Carson Beckett did not look pleased: "to go off world in your advanced condition would be considered extremely dangerous."

"The only danger I'll encounter will be all the nosy, nagging little brats that no doubt will hang around me like flies, begging for power bars and sugar." Rodney snorted: "The odds that we'll actually encounter a Wraith Dart or a Hive ship is extremely slim at best. As long as I'm allowed to take it slow and take breaks now and then, I'll be completely fine!"

"Said the man who's whining and grinding every time we go off world on foot, and that's when he's _not_ eight months pregnant," John grunted: "and besides, I seriously doubt we can dig up a tack vest big enough for _that_..." he gestured towards Rodney's infamous midsection.

"Actually," Rodney shot back, indignation painting his features: "I'm sure I can borrow Quagmire's... Higgins'... Olsen's… yeah Olsen's the name... or Olsan's vest, that chap from the botanist section, the sturdy fellow..."

John opened his mouth, but thankfully stopped himself. He was about to embark on a heated argument regarding tack vests for pregnant men, for god's sake! Rodney McKay always did that to him, reduced him to a babbling buffoon whenever he was trying to make a valid point. In stead John gave him a steady glare and dragged Elizabeth Weir off to her office.

"This is reckless of you, Elizabeth, both you and I know it!" he snarled as he leaned over her office desk.

"Sit down, John. I'll only have this discussion with you if you behave in a civil manner!"

With an impatient huff John dropped down on a chair, eyeing her with surprising indignation on behalf of a man he often claimed he couldn't stand.

"I understand your concerns, Colonel, and believe me I wouldn't allow this if I saw any other way to resolve this matter. But fact is- Rodney is the only scientist currently located at Atlantis capable of solving the problem."

"Don't you really think he's been through enough the last year?" John shot back: "You weren't there when I rescued him from that stinking cell they kept him in. It wasn't you who had to look into his eyes and see the fear and pain when I dragged him out of there, and it certainly wasn't you who had to hold him down when he started ceasing on the flight back to Atlantis."

"I know, John." Her voice was soft and grave: "But this was his choice, John. Not mine, not yours."

John slammed a fist in the desk, unable to contain his frustration.

"You'll be with him, every step of the way, and so will Carson, Teyla, Ronon and Major Lorne's team. Make sure he has plenty of rest and that he doesn't exhaust himself on the walk to the village. He said it himself, the chance of the Wraith attacking are slim at best. He'll be fine."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Elizabeth..." John got to his feet and left the office.

Outside Carson was waiting for him, a nervous light in his eyes.

"Here." he handed him something that reminded John of the Epi Pens Rodney kept in case of citrus emergencies.

"What's this?" John asked, looking down on the five tubes now resting in the palm of his hand.

"They're Exhimole pens. They're to be used if Rodney's faced with a highly stressful situation." Carson told him, and continued: "The Exhimole work by counteracting the biochemical and muscular changes involved in the fight-or-flight reactions in a state of panic, it will calm him down, but it will also numb his reactions. He'll almost appear to be drunk, he'll start to wobble and stagger when he walk, his speak may slur, and he'll have problems thinking straight. But it will keep him calm and somewhat relaxed for approximately twelve hours."

"You want me to drug him?!" John asked incredulously.

"Only if necessary," Carson told him firmly: "I also gave Teyla and Ronon a set each, and I carry five myself as well. In case we get separated," he added before John was able to ask whether they all were to attack him with the drugs at once.

"You set the yellow end of the pen towards thigh or buttocks, an area with much flesh and muscle, and push the red tip to eject the needle into the flesh," Carson continued matter of factly. "Make sure you inject the full dose, or else the effect will be too slim, and be aware that more than three continuous doses of this stuff will cause him withdrawals."

"What ever happened to good old Vicodine?!" John muttered.

"This is the only stuff that won't trigger the failsafe device inside him," Carson sighed, eyes darting down towards the floor. John's chest tightened.

"You don't mean..."

"It's the sedative they used on him back when he was held captive, yes... I managed to secure some of it to ease Rodney's withdrawal when he came back." John held out his hand, gesturing for Carson to take the drugs off him.

"He'll never allow us to use this on him!"

"And that's why he won't know we have it as a back up plan," Carson stated firmly.

John felt sick to his stomach as he stuffed the pens away in his pocket.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Rodney was actually volunteering for a potentially dangerous mission. And it was on a mission to the planet filled with children none the less. It was a hilarious thought, almost as ridiculous as the sight of him stuffed into a giant tack vest in his current state. It was nothing less than a small miracle that it, somehow, fit. The buckles in front had taken some persuasion though before they clicked shut, and the seams in the sides had to be extended quite a bit. As a result the sides became the most vulnerable spot on his torso.

Carson came up to him and gave him a long solemn look before he patted his back reassuringly.

"Let's make this our best mission yet," he smiled and handed him his tablet.

"No need to get sentimental, doctor!" Rodney snapped and strapped the tablet to his back. His nerves were twitching with anxiety to get this over and done with. No matter how remote the odds were that something was going to happen to him, it would still be a long way back to Atlantis if it did... And he knew a three hour walk in his state would be long and painful no matter how many breaks they took along the way.

With a solid collection of power bars neatly stowed away in his pockets and a bottle of water attached to his side he made his way into the Puddle Jumper, followed by a flock of Major Lorne's eerie marines and the members of Sheppard's Alpha team. As they descended down into the Gate Room he turned his head for a moment, meeting Elizabeth Weir's concerned gaze from the Control Room. He gave her the thumbs up and a crooked smile, looking a lot calmer than he felt inside. The impostor within him was already squirming in unease beneath the pressure of the all too tight vest, and Rodney silently hoped breathing wouldn't be a too much needed exercise during their little excursion.


	8. A Simple Mission

**Chapter 8 ****A Simple Mission**

They were greeted with scolding sunbeams as they went out of the Puddle Jumper half an hour later, trotting through knee high grass on the outskirts of the forest hiding the twelve villages and the ancient shrine where the Z.P.M. was located. Rodney had approximated to spend about three hours on the walk to the Ancient ruins in his current condition, but was already starting to doubt his estimates. Although not more than twelve o clock in the afternoon, Rodney was already starting to feel exhaustion creep into his bones. And that was before he'd taken the first stumbling steps on the longest stretch of this mission.

The walk proved every bit as exhausting as he'd feared. But even more annoying was John and Carson's constant hovering over him. Their concern made him anxious and that agitated the one kicking the air out of his lungs. As if breathing really was an option. He finally decided to take a break after one hour of slow waddling through traitorous forest terrain, panting so hard even Ronon had stopped making fun of him for it. Resting his back on the trunk of a massive tree he ripped open a power bar with his teeth and tiredly began to eat it. Slowly he slumped down in some sort of crouching position, trying to fend off a building headache with a sip of water. He felt too hot, the fever probably spiking due to the tight vest and all the exercise, but he didn't bother mentioning it to Carson. Knowing John he gathered he wouldn't be allowed to take off the vest either. Thankfully he'd decided to leave his jacket back at Atlantis, dreading the thought of how overheated he would feel with that stuck under the vest in addition to the shirt he was currently was marinating.

Half the power bar slid out of his hand and fell to the ground, and his head started to droop as the exhaustion became overwhelming. He rubbed gritty eyes with a tired frown on his face and tried to get up, but sweet enticing darkness claimed him before he could really understand what was going on.

"Is he... falling asleep?" Teyla's voice sounded muffled and distant.

"Let him!" Sheppard replied.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Rodney, can you hear me? Rodney!" His eyes snapped open and he awoke with a start. He blinked in confusion for a few seconds, trying to remember where he was, and finally he managed to focus on John Sheppard's rugged face.

"You've been napping for half an hour, time to start moving again, Sleeping Beauty," John told him and held out a hand, apparently to help him stand up. Rodney grunted, feeling a wave of stupor numb his body, but he reached out and accepted the Colonel's aid. Moments later he was standing on unsteady feet, trying to clear his head enough to start walking again.

Four hours and two more McKay power naps later they finally arrived the Ancient ruins where the malfunctioning Z.P.M. was hidden. Rodney's eyes had been latched to the Ancient Scanner in his hands for the last hour or so, and he was puzzled by the readings to say the least. Now he wiped the sweat from his brow and approached the shrine with determination steadying his steps, and he blatantly ignored the young children that seemed to be drawn to him like a magnet. John finally managed to lure them away with some chocolate and chewing gum and Rodney's back was finally free to do the work he'd been sent here to do.

"Two hours, give or take a minute," he estimated before he dove down into the heart of the EMP generator, cursing the tightness in his chest that made it almost impossible to breathe.

It didn't take him long to determine what he'd secretly been suspecting all along.

"This device has been tampered with!" he told Carson who was trying to stay close but also out of the way.

"It's probably just some kids who's been playing where they're not supposed to and are too afraid to step forward," Carson argued.

"No. Somebody's deliberately been tampering with the calibrations of the generator, trigging it to malfunction in two fazes. This is not the handiwork of a child!" Rodney growled as he dived deeper into the device.

"But why tamper with it so that it fails slowly, why not shut it down completely?" Carson didn't sound convinced. Rodney stuck his head out to serve his most famous "moron!" expression.

"Maybe the perpetrator wanted a safe getaway without raising suspicions, or maybe... maybe he was setting a trap..." Their eyes met, both raising their eyebrows in unison.

"Maybe I should get back to work..." Rodney mumbled. Carson gave him an agreeing nod.

"And I'll go notify Sheppard about your discovery."

_______________________________________________________________________

Two hours later his work was almost complete, there were some necessary calibrations that remained before he could restart the Z.P.M. but he was almost there. Carson had informed Sheppard about his discovery regarding the EMP generator, and Sheppard started a full-blown investigation. After a talk with Keran he learned that a stranger had visited the forest a little over a week ago. It was an older man, a rare sight in such a civilisation and he'd been welcomed like a friend. He was particularly interested in the ancient ruins in the forest. A couple of young boys had shown him the old Shrine before Keran had been made aware of his presence, but nothing seemed disturbed though, and the stranger had seemed trustworthy.

He stayed for one night, then thanked for the hospitality and walked through the Stargate. A week later Major Lorne and his team arrived, and the EMP Generator started to behave weirdly. An hour after the Marines had set foot within the forest the generator completely shut down and there was reported activity by the Stargate. A Wraith Dart zoomed through the iris, and the marines guarding the gate followed in hot pursuit in the puddle jumper. They managed to shoot down the Dart and land on the outskirts of the forest before the EMP field came back on, but now it was shutting off and on again at irregular intervals.

Something was not right, but Rodney was too tired to wrap his mind around it. He was working so hard on recalibrating the generator that bright yellow spots started to dance in front of his eyes.

"You need to rest, Rodney," Carson urged, trying to pull him away from the generator.

"I'm almost finished," Rodney barked: "five more minutes!" He tried to hit a free slot with a crystal, but missed it completely.

"Nope, break. NOW!" Carson ordered, handing him a power bar. "Eat!"

Rodney let go of his work with a moan, agreeing for once that five minutes give or take wouldn't change the faith of the universe, so he leaned back and rested an aching back to a pillar. To his great annoyance Carson had the nerve to slap a blood pressure cuff to his arm. The frown on his face moments later told Rodney the doctor was not pleased with the result.

"I think we should spend the night," Carson decided, tucking away his medical kit. "You're in no shape to walk back to the Puddle Jumper tonight, you need rest."

"I'm not spending a minute more on this kid infested planet than I have to!" Rodney shot back, barely nibbling at the power bar in hand.

"You're staying, doctor's orders!" Carson smirked. Rodney opened his mouth to retort back, but his ears suddenly picked up an all too familiar sound from the distance.

"Oh come _on_!" he moaned and suddenly got very busy with his work again. Seconds later John Sheppard came charging, yelling for Rodney to get the EMP up and working faster than hell. God damn Carson and his breaks!

It was a Wraith Darth approaching the forest on screaming engines. Another recon team, or the tip of the spear? Rodney growled as he tried to make his brain and fingers work faster, hearing children screaming as they were running to hide.

He wasn't even aware when John suddenly dragged him up and away from the generator, trying to get him to safety behind a group of trees. He vaguely registered Carson screaming at the top of his lungs, a bright light zooming in on him, and John's arms and body wrapped protectively around him before it all went blank and the deafening noise ceased to exist.


	9. Too Close For Comfort

**Chapter 9 Too Close For Comfort**

John thankfully came to before Rodney, taking in the sight of a cold Wraith cell with a blood draining chill filling his veins. Rodney lay a few feet away, sprawled on his back, wheezing for air even in an unconscious state. John leaned over and pushed two fingers towards the scientist's throat and found a slow, but firm pulse beating in his veins. A quick scan rewarded him with an unconscious but other ways unharmed McKay, and John breathed a silent sigh of relief.

He suddenly remembered the Exhimole pens and wondered if they were still inside his pocket, or if they'd been lifted from him together with his P90 and service arm. Thankfully they were still there together with a couple of power bars, probably presumed harmless towards Wraith kind. A sinking feeling to his stomach told him this was the situation where Doctor Beckett had instructed him to put the drugs to use. He hesitated for a moment before he pushed Rodney over to his side.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he groaned before he dragged the scientist's pants down to reveal a pair of pale butt cheeks. He pushed the pen containing the sedative towards soft flesh and pressed the injector. Rodney's muscles tensed for a second before he relaxed again, and John redressed him with a conscience black as night.

John tried to make Rodney as comfortable as possible and placed his jacket over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He pondered for a moment whether or not he ought to take off him the tack vest, but decided the safest thing for the time being would be to leave it on. Finally he placed Rodney's head in his lap and leaned towards the wall of the holding cell, trying to figure out exactly where and when the shit had hit the fan.

He'd been speaking with Keran at the same time as he kept regular radio contact with Rodney to keep himself updated on the repairs. Lorne was strolling up to him when he first heard it, the unmistakable sound of a Wraith Dart. Teyla confirmed his worst fears when her senses picked up the wraith as well.

"Sheppard to Gate team, come in!" he yelled over the intercom.

"This is Gate team, go," the answer sparked into his ear.

"Has the gate been activated?" John barked, looking into the sky to spot a visual of the ship.

"Negative, Sir. The Gate's been deactivated since we arrived."

"Where the hell did it come from?" Lorne asked, looking into the air as well, not able to find the source of the approaching sound. John growled and bit his knuckles in shere frustration.

"It came together with the first dart. They went through the gate after your men followed the first Dart with the Puddle Jumper. They must have gone directly into hiding somewhere outside the Force field," John snarled through gritted teeth. How could he have been so stupid! This was all a setup, a nicely set trap, and he had led his and Lorne's team straight into it.

"But why would a dart stay behind and hide on the planet, it doesn't make any sense," Lorne disagreed, a confused frown on his face.

"It does if you're setting a trap," John remarked, his jaw clenching: "Get the children to safety!" he ordered, and ran over to the field where the ancient ruins were located.

"GET THAT EMP WORKING, FASTER THAN HELL RODNEY!!!" he yelled, and that was when he finally spotted the Wraith Dart. It was rushing over the forest on roaring engines, heading straight for..

"McKAY!" he yelled as he started running towards the small clearing in the woods where the scientist was currently sweating bullets, trying to get the EMP online before the dart reached the villages. A roar of sound made the threes in the outskirts of the woods bend and the howl mixed with the terrified cries of the village children.

"Rodney, HIDE!!! John roared as he came charging, the dart hot on his heals, heading straight for the Ancient ruins where only the frizzy mop of Rodney's hair was visible behind the control panel. He looked up as he heard his name, a look of utter surprise and fear on his face as John ran straight for him, dragged him to his feet in one fierce tug and hauled him towards the nearest tree line. The growl of the Dart's engines was deafening, and John pushed Rodney to the ground, covering him as best he could with his own body before there was blinding light… and silence.

The next thing he knew he woke up here, in a stinking Hive Ship, feeling like the stupidest man on earth. They had walked straight into a trap, and the Wraith had been after Rodney somehow, but why he couldn't gather.

"I see at least one of you has woken."

John jumped in surprise. He'd been so far away he hadn't noticed the wraith that'd approached the bars outside the cell. It was an ugly bugger, as they all were, ragged white hair running down his back, and a scrawny white mustache protruding on his upper lip. John gingerly put his tack vest under Rodney's head for support and got to his feet.

"I stunned the fat one twice, to make sure he would stay down," the wraith mused, an evil chuckle rasping in his throat as an ugly grin revealed a set of rotting, sharp teeth.

"What is it you want with us?!" John demanded. The Wraith eyed him for a moment, looked him up and down like he was searching for something.

"Which of you carry the infant?" the wraith asked. John could feel his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

"That would be me," he lied, patting his stomach for emphasis. Given the fact that they knew nothing about how wraiths were multiplying he hoped wraith kind was as ignoramus about the human way. The Wraith looked at him, and pulled his stun gun. He aimed it towards the limp body of Rodney McKay.

"Hey, hey! No shooting, you need us both! ...And technically he's the... infant carrier..." he added. The wraith growled and the stunner was pointed towards John instead.

"Don't shoot me, you need me as well!" John stressed, holding his arms up in defeat.

"You need me to keep him calm, and to keep him alive. He's ill. He's running a temperature, and he'll get very, very sick if I'm not around to administer his medicine!"

The wraith stared at him for something that felt like hours before he finally lowered the stunner.

"You'll live, for now," he barked and walked away.

There were some muffled sounds from the corner where Rodney was curled up and John sat down by his side. The scientist's eyes fluttered open and he had a dozed and confused look on his face as he slowly took in the view in front of him.

"Where... are... we...?" he mumbled, trying to rub his face with his left hand, and missed.

"We're on a Hive, Rodney," John told him in a calm voice. "But I'm sure Lorne and his men are hot on our tails, we'll be out of here in no time!" He helped Rodney sit up. The scientist looked terrible, with bloodshot eyes, pale, clammy skin and dark blue rings forming under his eyes.

"I feel… weird," he groaned, touching his forehead.

"How's your stomach feeling?" John asked, handing Rodney a bottle of water.

"Cramped…" Rodney growled, tugging helplessly at his vest.

"Mmmph... take it... off..." he panted.

"You sure?" John asked. Rodney blinked and gave some sort of a nod for approval. John did as told and helped him move so he could rest his back towards the wall.

"Queasy..." Rodney mumbled, his head swaying from side to side.

"Listen, Rodney. While you were out I gave you something... to ease your nerves."

"Mhm?" Rodney responded. Then he turned his head politely to the side and threw up.

"Oh shit!" John watched in dumbstruck horror for a second until the sound of retching and gagging lit a fire under his ass and got him moving.

"I've got you." He leaned over and held Rodney steady, let him empty the poor contents of his stomach without spoiling himself and pulled him back to rest when he was done. Rodney's head hit John's shoulder with a soft thud, a mellow smile on his face.

"You... drugged me... di'n… you..." he mumbled, waving an index finger meekly in the air.

"I'm afraid so..." John replied: "I didn't know you'd faze out like this."

"Only... in... beginnin'... Head clears up... a bit... after... a while..." Rodney's head bobbed back and forth. "It's... Ex... Exhi... Exh..." he struggled to pronounce the word, face scrunching in agitation.

"Exhimole, yes," John apologized: "Carson told me it would numb you… help you stay calm in a stressful situation."

"Mhm..." Rodney groaned, his head finally resting against John's neck.

"Body... numb... Mind... terriff… terri... fied."

John closed his eyes, feeling nauseous himself.

"Just hang on, Rodney. We'll get out you of this." He silently wondered if he was trying to console Rodney or himself...

______________________________________________________________________________________

It was like waking up to the worst hangover, and having the flu at the same time. Rodney's head was spinning like a merry-go-round and the unfamiliar surroundings made him even more confused. He remembered feeling like this once before. That time he had woken up in a padded cell in a huge Battle Cruiser sporting a science lab for good measure.

Now like then his mind was screaming at him to panic, but his body didn't respond the way it should. He stayed dazed, feeling dead drunk and anesthetized, his vision blurred and hearing muffled.

But there was one big difference. The first time he'd been alone, this time he was leaning heavily on John Sheppard's chest. He wasn't alone, somebody was with him.

A couple of hours later he was coherent enough to lead a light conversation with John without stammering too much. He still felt like crap though, and he knew it would be hell coming off the drugs later if John had to give him continuous dozes. It took all he had of concentration to shape a sentence, place the words where they belonged and to pronounce them correctly. It was incredibly hard to follow John's casual murmur of tongue, especially when he spoke for a long time.

He lazily wondered how the drugs were affecting his impostor, noticed how the poking and prodding from inside had slowed down the latest hours, transforming his stomach to a scene of calm and breezy serenity.

They hadn't discussed the reason why they were captured yet, but Rodney had a sneaking suspicion John knew more about it than he led on. There was an air of uneasiness about him, and there was a certain way his gaze wandered every time Rodney's conversation trailed towards what had happened while he'd been unconscious. Rodney didn't press the matter. Although he wouldn't react physically to what ever Sheppard was hiding, his head would have a field day running, or more like snailing at this state, through the schematics and endless opportunities of horror that might unfold. With limited ways to express stress and tension through physical reaction his fear became bottled up inside him. He vaguely remembered the first months back at Atlantis after his rescue and dreaded the very thought of ending up like that again. If he was still stuck here after round two of the Exhimole train had left the station, then he would ask John what the hell he was avoiding.

But before the opportune moment for him to squeeze Sheppard for information arrived a wraith approached the bars of their jail cell. Rodney's eyes squinted in dazed confusion as he took in the sight of the frightening figure, knowing full well his blood normally would run cold and his heart rate skyrocket. Instead he felt a panic rising in his brain, but had no external way to express his fear. He just stared dumbly on the wraith as a terrifying grin grew across its face.

"Hi Bjorn!" John greeted.

"I knew it!" Rodney triumphed internally; Sheppard had already bonded with their captor. Bjorn, what a stupid Scandinavian sounding name! Probably Swedish.

Rodney bit his lower lip as he tried to put together a sentence oozing of satire and venom.

"You're ugly," he snarked, failing utterly.

"Let me do the talking for now, Rodney," Sheppard offered, patting his shoulder lightly. "I've decided to name him Bjorn, hope you don't mind." Rodney grunted his disapproval, but didn't object further.

The bars that divided them from the wraith slid aside and Bjorn stepped inside the cell in all his gruesome glory. He peered down on Rodney with a look of lazy disgust on his face.

"You've got bad breath!" Rodney remarked, realizing to his inner horror that the sedative in some form worked as a truth serum as well. The wraith tilted his head to the side, and studied him for a second before a stun gun was pointed to Rodney's face.

"You're not the Scientist Rodney McKay," he snarled, "you're a decoy!" Rodney barely raised an eyebrow, but Sheppard got to his feet and jumped in front of him with poorly hidden fear in his eyes.

"That's McKay, dammit! Will you stop aiming that bloody thing on him?!" Bjorn eyed him with an annoyed look on his face, but didn't lover his gun. Now it was firmly aimed at Sheppard's belly as he'd stepped between Rodney and the Wraith.

"That's not Rodney McKay," Bjorn stated firmly. "The Rodney McKay we were supposed to pick up is a highly skilled scientist, a genius. That man," he scowled as he shifted to get a better sight of Rodney sitting the floor behind John: "is slow. And he's not afraid. My informant told me McKay was a cowering coward who would hide in a corner." Rodney needed a few extra moments to let what Bjorn had said sink in.

"No I'm _not!_" he replied, trying to sound angry, but coming off as mildly annoyed at best.

"How can you doubt that that's not Rodney McKay?" John asked incredulously: "How many _pregnant_ astrophysicists do you think there's out there?!"

"I do not know how to determine a human pregnancy," Bjorn told him dispassionately: "All I see before me is a fat and remarkably slow human. I was told Rodney McKay was a brilliant genius, and a coward."

"Well, I'm both!" Rodney replied, thought about it for a few moments and added: "Uhm, not both, I'm uhm..." his voice trailed off.

"Thank you for proving my point!" Bjorn growled as a determined smirk grew on his face: "Now, step aside, or you go first!" he addressed John, who wouldn't budge.

"Listen, it's the drugs! They slow him down, numbs his body and makes him less scared than he normally would be!" John told the wraith calmly, not stepping aside.

"And as clueless as you might be about human pregnancies I suppose you know that it's the females in our species who normally carries our offspring?"

Bjorn growled impatiently, but nodded his head.

"I can prove to you that Rodney here is indeed pregnant, but I need your solemn promise you're not going to hurt him!"

"I will do with him as I please!" Bjorn hissed and pointed the stun gun firmly towards John Sheppard's chest. Normally that would have brought a world of distress to Rodney McKay, but he simply noted his team mate in danger and scratched his head a little.

John took a step forward, all but thrusting his chest into the stun gun.

"If you do that I'm pretty sure you will have hell to explain to your employer!" he told him passionately: "It's obvious that you're a hired gun on a mission, and a poor one at that!" A smirk grew on his face when Bjorn gave an insulted snort.

"As pregnant men are pretty rare in this universe I bet your employer will be pretty pissed if you bring him a dead one, something tells me he wants him in one piece! Now. Lower that gun, and _promise_ me you'll do as I say!" John growled.

After what normally would've been a terrifyingly tense moment to Rodney, Bjorn the wraith finally lowered his gun and placed it back into the gun holster placed on his hip.

"Alright then, enlighten me!" the wraith growled, holding out his arms in gestured disbelief. John turned and looked down at Rodney with what the scientist slowly realized was worry painting his features. He then crouched down and placed a firm palm on top of Rodney's stomach, and the added pressure immediately was rewarded with a fierce shove. Rodney squirmed in discomfort as John gestured for the wraith to step forward.

"Place your hand here," he instructed, then flinched as the Wraith moved closer, revealing the crease in his palm.

"But no life sucking what so ever!" John barked: "If you try to feed on him it will kill both McKay and the infant."

"That's normally the intension when we feed on humans!" the wraith snapped, creeping ever closer to the man sitting propped up towards the wall. John looked like he steeled himself, then he grabbed Bjorn's wrist and placed his hand directly where he had held his own moments ago. He pushed the wraith's palm towards the distended flesh, and once more he received agitated movements from beneath. Rodney groaned, a flustered and slight nauseated look growing on his face.

"Intriguing!" Bjorn growled in surprise as his palm traced the movements and watched how they rippled over Rodney's stomach. "I knew you grew your young inside you somehow, but that you allow them to grow so big and let them move around so freely..." Was that actually a smile of some sort lurking in the wraith's face?

"Thank God I'm sedated!" Rodney thought, trying to fight the growing nausea that was rising in his throat. He silently wondered how the memory of a wraith touching him with something that felt like astonished caress would come back to hunt him in sleepless nights to come...

"Enough!" John barked, jerking the wraith's hand away. Bjorn snarled at him, palm raised towards the Colonel for a shaky moment.

"Remember, you need me," John told him calmly. Bjorn lowered his hand, a snarl revealing his poorly hidden lust to feed.

"You will leave us now, McKay needs to rest," Sheppard told Bjorn firmly, and to Rodney's dazed astonishment the wraith actually applied. With a last look over his shoulder the wraith left, a disgruntled frown washing over his face.

Rodney watched the wraith leave with a million questions rising in his mind, but they soon evaporated due to his body's pressing need for some rest. As John slowly sat down beside him again he was already struggling to stay awake.

"How did you know..." he started, but was cut off by his own, massive yawn.

"That you're tired? Hell, Rodney, you look like you haven't slept for a month," John murmured and patted his shoulder lightly. "Rest now, I'll keep watch, all right?" Rodney didn't answer, he was already sound asleep.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

John waited until he was certain Rodney was sleeping heavily before he summoned Bjorn's attention through a wraith guard. The wraith looked mildly annoyed as he approached the bars once more, but this time he didn't step into the cell.

"What do you want!" he demanded, spilling no time on diplomatic courtesies. Encouraged by the wraith's blunt approach John decided not to beat around the bush.

"Who hired you!" he barked.

"You're either brave or stupid, demanding such information from me," the wraith wheezed as he stared at John with pure conceit.

"I'm a petty prisoner at the mercy of your life sucking hand, what difference does it make if I know why you've captured us? Wraith never does anything they won't gain profit from further down the line, so I'm curious of what you have to gain from capturing a mere pregnant human." Bjorn the wraith peered at him with poorly hidden curiosity.

"A pregnant male genius," Bjorn added, a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye: "a very unusual condition, I take it, since it creates such great hoopla through the galaxy." He looked over to McKay's slumbering figure, eyes trailing the bursting fabric covering something apparently of value to the wraith.

"What do you mean," John required: "nobody knows of his condition."

"The pregnant man, the one carrying the Great War's secret weapon?" Bjorn mused: "Oh, it's a well known fact that the Atlantian's are still out there, although your base was destroyed. It's also a well known fact that a certain Melonian ship was able to capture Atlantis' greatest asset," he gave the sleeping man another tantalizing gaze: "and that they were able to create a weapon that could very well be the key to winning the war between wraith and humans. But in all this you speak of me as being a mere henchman, a gun for hire, and you couldn't be more wrong."

John's blood grew cold.

"What's going on!"

"The Melonians are a peculiar race. Bright scientists, but their brains holds limits keeping them from greatness, but they are sufficient enough for the task I had in mind for them: to copy the greatest weapon currently known, the mind of Atlantis' head scientist." An evil smirk grew on the wraith's face as he watched the words hit John with heavy impact. John had it all wrong. He believed the Wraith were hired thugs in this, but instead it was the other way round. It was the Melonians who'd been the hired thugs.

"We're in hyperdrive, going to a secluded Melonian lab on an inhabitable planet, where my head scientist will continue the work he started on a while back until you lot came along and extracted the subject before the process had been completed."

"We never leave a man behind!" John growled, voice heavy with emotion.

"And I never leave a good plan," Bjorn snorted: "I simply recalibrate." He gave John a stern look.

"With McKay's mind we'll be able to win the war against the humans. But I knew the original McKay would be of no use to us, as humans are frail and shaped by their life and upbringing. McKay would never be useful as a weapon against the human race, but an identical clone, shaped and formed by my employees on the other hand..."

John choked a gasp. Rodney McKay had been a wraith target all along, being the center piece in a carefully planned operation. This wraith and his Hive apparently had gone into collaboration with the Melonians, ordering a McKay clone who's mind they would form and shape into a dangerous strategic weapon. The clone would be able to develop wraith technology to new levels of mass destruction and bring the human race to its knees as long as the original McKay was destroyed. There wasn't a million to one shot that John would've been able to guess such an origin to Rodney's peculiar condition.

"We used well known allies to draw you out in the open. We made sure McKay had to accompany your team to the "Planet of youngsters" where one of my affiliates had demolished a Z.P.M. device rigged to keep my kind away. The only problem is telling you humans apart, as you all look the same." Bjorn wrinkled his brow in unbothered disgust.

"We only knew the human's name: McKay, but didn't know his appearance. But there was a simple solution to that as well. Our affiliate simply hid a homing device on the EMP McKay was going to repair. When our dart arrived its mark there were two of you there, so we simply collected you both. And here we are, McKay's back in my possession. Now all I have to do is to deliver him at the Melonian science base where the clone will be harvested. It will grow up under my influence and become our most valuable asset in the war against the humans, while the original McKay has to be destroyed, of course. We're a patient race, as you no doubt know. In 30 to 40 years time the war will be over, and we will be the victorious side." A terrifying grin grew on the wraith's face, and John did little to hide his disgust and fear.

"We set a nice little trap didn't we?"

John Sheppard was starting to get really annoyed by the smugness in the wraith's voice.

"You'll fail!" he simply stated. "You don't know McKay, he'll never abide, and nor would his clone, no matter its upbringing."

"Bah! You humans are such simple creatures! You're formed and shaped through your surroundings trough simple prods and pokes. With the right mind you're able to become anything, but you need the right push to become so. This clone will be a blank canvas, ready to be shaped to my satisfaction."

"You're sick!" John snarled.

"No, just cunning," Bjorn smirked.

There was a soft moan from the corner where Rodney was sleeping. John threw a worried glance over his shoulder as he realized the dose of Exhimole probably was starting to wear off. A pained expression was starting to grow on the sleeping man's face and his head started to bob slowly back and forth accompanied with small groans.

"You better go back to your babysitting," the wraith sniggered: "best to keep him alive until I get what I want. Who knows, maybe I even let you live afterwards."

John threw the wraith a deadly glare before he turned his full attention to McKay. He was mumbling incoherently, his mind probably responding to a vivid nightmare. John grabbed his hand and was immediately rewarded with a tight grip.

"Ssssh, Rodney. You're safe. I'm with you." John ran his hand carefully over the scientist's hair and dragged him into some sort of clumsy embrace. Slowly Rodney drifted further into sleep again, his grip went limp and let go of John's hand as his body relaxed. John marveled at the sense of peace that suddenly shone through Rodney's features.

"I'm so sorry, Rodney!" he whispered as he drew the second dose of Exhimole out of his pocket. Keeping his serenity was one thing, but would John be able to save Rodney's sanity?


	10. Unfamiliar Surroundings

**Chapter 10 Unfamiliar Surroundings**

Oh crap. He was dozed again. Rodney groaned as he woke to another high. He found himself, oddly enough, in the lap of John Sheppard who was probably trying to keep him warm. The floor of a wraith cell didn't offer much comfort or warmth, so it was the best the Colonel could do for him, Rodney suspected.

"Mm... mo... mor...nin..." Rodney mumbled.

"Mornin' Rodney. You look like crap by the way," John replied, a blurry grin hovering above his head. The other man's voice bounced off the walls in Rodney's head like a bad echo. But he recognised a taunt when he heard one. He grunted his disapproval, as he secretly hoped the world would stop spinning.

"Time to get some morning exercise, don't you think?"

"Huh?" Rodney felt himself get dragged to his feet, and before he knew it he was standing on a set of very wobbly legs. No wonder, given the fact he'd been laying on a cold floor for at least half a day. He could feel his knees buckle beneath him, not finding the strength to carry his own body.

"You need to get circulation going in your legs, Rodney!" John ordered from somewhere behind him. He was holding him upright with firm arms, and was, quite frankly, the only thing keeping Rodney on his feet.

"Nn...nnau…seouss..." Rodney mumbled, taking a few helpless steps. God, he felt dizzy, constipated, bloated, nauseous, famished and dog tired at one and the same time, and the staggering around just added to the frustration he felt over the less to none control over his own body.

"I should be working on a way to get out of here right now," he thought to himself as John finally helped him sit down: "but all I can do is fumble around like an old drunk." It was hard to think and even harder to put words together into coherent sentences. He swallowed a few sips of water as Sheppard put a bottle to his mouth and moaned inwardly when he felt how most of it ran down his chin and down on his chest.

A few hours later his body had adjusted itself to the medication once more. Rodney was glaring at the wall in front of him silently wondering if the cavalry really were on their way as John so persistently insisted.

"How many doses have you brought?" The question came out of thin air, before Rodney even had half a chance to formulate the words. John looked at him for a long moment, a hint of both worry and relief in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I have plenty" he answered, a small smile lurking in the corner of his mouth.

"How many!" Rodney demanded. John's gaze suddenly grew uncertain for a second.

"Five..."

"And they last..?"

"For twelve hours... give or take..."

"Twelve times five... that's... that's..." Rodney was yelling with frustration on the inside. It wasn't like he was trying to decipher a nine digit alpha code! It was the simplest little equation! Twelve times five, twelve times FREAKING five!!!

"That's 60 hours, Rodney..."

"Oh, right..." Rodney just wanted to wither away and die.

"It's four hours to your third doze, Rodney. After that you will suffer withdrawal if I administer the fourth..."

"I know," Rodney mumbled. He would feel like absolute crap for a day or so, but at least Carson Beckett had been fairly certain that the blasted failsafe wouldn't react to at least easy withdrawal symptoms. He'd tried to make Rodney carry around an Exhimole pen in case of emergencies ever since his last breakdown in the Gate Room, but Rodney had denied to accept it. Nothing that reminded him of those six hellish months back in that cell would be administered to his body ever again. He'd sworn on it, and even hurled one of the pens into the wall with full force to state his point. Now, here he was a few weeks later with the same poison running through his veins. He wanted to manage without the drugs, he wished with all his might he could've been as fearless as Sheppard or Dex, but he knew too well how he would react to the imminent fear of death, knew how his mind would suffer a major breakdown no matter how hard he tried to stay brave.

"Do you think you're able to cope without the drugs?" Sheppard asked him, a kind and honest tone in his voice that made Rodney feel even more like a coward.

"I... I... could try..." he sighed: "but I don't think so.."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Rodney," Sheppard told him calmly: "after all, it's not only your life at stake now." Rodney's head bobbed downwards. There it was, underneath flesh and clothes, the reason for his predicament. Both his curse and responsibility as long as it grew inside him.

"You know... why we're here... don't you..." he finally stated, and slowly he lifted his gaze towards John who's features suddenly became unreadable.

"Yes, I do," he finally answered.

"Is it... because of... it?" Rodney asked silently, a hand unconsciously touching the distended flesh he'd hated with a passion ever since he found out about his condition.

"Yes."

"Well, they're not... getting him..!" Rodney stated firmly.

_Him_… It was no longer an _it_ he carried, it was a _he_. It was a living breathing baby boy, who had as little choice in his creation as Rodney had. It was his boy now, and no one was taking him away until Rodney said so. He would pick the parents, he would see to it that this baby would grow up in a loving, caring home; never lacking the things Rodney himself had missed during his childhood years.

"Don't... let them... get him, John!" Rodney tugged Sheppard's sleeve, the desperate plea reading through his eyes.

"They won't get him, Rodney- I promise!" John murmured, grabbing Rodney's hand a little too hard.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

John had to bite his lip to remain calm. He was silently watching Rodney who'd drifted into sleep again, resting on his side to be able to breathe properly. He had actually begged John to protect the baby he was carrying. The very baby that was the cause of all this havoc and mayhem. Rodney, who'd never shed anyone beyond himself a second thought. And now there he was, arms wrapped protectively around taut flesh, ready to fight for something that had been forced upon him. There was an almost serene beauty to him there he lay, even with that ridiculous belly and the exhaustion that crippled his body.

"You never stop to amaze me, do you Rodney McKay," John murmured as he put his uniform jacket over the sleeping man. He only hoped he would be able to keep his promise...

The Deadalus was back at Atlantis when the two teams had departured for M7G-677, and John seriously doubted it would have had the time to track down the Hive ship before it went into hyper drive. And given the fact that they'd spent about 34 hours in a wraith ship with no rescue John was now certain the Deadalus hadn't reached them in time. Their only hope as of now was that Major Lorne and his team had made it to one of the jumpers and managed to pursue the wraith dart containing Rodney and himself back to the Hive ship, where they'd attached themselves to the hull of the ship, following them into hyper drive. If so they wouldn't be able to do anything until the ship came out of hyper drive, but the Deadalus would be able to track the jumper through subspace. It was a long shot at best...

But the longer they stayed in hyper drive, the longer it would take for the Deadalus to catch up with them, and the harder they would be to track down if Major Lorne hadn't succeeded in following them. Time was growing short, and there was nothing John could do about it but wait.

As he administered the fourth shot of Exhimole to Rodney with a heavy heart he realised he hadn't slept in over 48 hours. Rodney was awake and looked more coherent now than he had after the other shots. His system seemed to have adjusted to the drugs, and as his body wasn't overwhelmed anymore his eyes cleared up and he escaped the nausea and vomiting.

But although Rodney was able to make himself understood it was still Rodney McKay in slow motion. He wasn't able to solve the easiest puzzle, his sense of logic obliterated, and if given a computer tablet he probably would've had a problem turning it on. John had counted on McKay's brilliant mind to get them out of so many situations that he'd taken it for granted. Now when that option was taken away he slowly started to realize just how valuable an asset Rodney was to the team, to Atlantis, and to himself. He made a solemn promise never to take the man for granted again.

"You should get some sleep, Sheppard," Rodney told him as John rubbed his face with tired movements.

"I'm fine, McKay," he answered, straightening his back.

"Rubbish, you look like hell!" The words came oddly slow and without the usual pathos Rodney used to deliver, but he got his message across just as well.

"What if rescue comes, you won't be in shape to get us out of here."

"Point taken," John sighed: "but you wake me the second something happens, OK?!"

"Alright." Rodney handed him his jacket.

"Lullaby?"

John didn't answer; he was too busy recharging batteries.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

He woke hours later, by Rodney shaking his shoulder. At first he couldn't make out where he was, his mind still floating, but when his eyes locked with Rodney's he was awake within a heartbeat. Rodney was sweating like a pig, heaving for his breath and clutching his chest.

"Rodney, what's wrong!" He got up, helped Rodney lean back towards the wall and placed two fingers on his throat to find a frantic pulse.

"Need...exhi...moh...le..." Rodney panted. John looked at him dumbly for a second. He'd just administered the fourth dose a few moments ago. Then he looked down at his wrist watch with horror.

Fuck! He'd been out for thirteen hours straight!!

"All right. Relax, we'll get you calm as a summer's breeze again in no time," John cooed as he fumbled around in his pockets after the last Exhimole pen.

"Tried to...man...age... without..." Rodney breathed, eyes raw with embarrassment.

"I'm... such... a... cowa..."

"You're no such thing!" John barked as he administered the sedative. He could feel the other man's entire body tremble beneath his arms. Rodney had his eyes squeezed shut and was gasping for air as John tried his best to make him more comfortable on the cold floor. He placed the scientist in a foetal position, and shook his shoulder lightly to make him focus. Rodney hesitantly opened his eyes and looked at him, fear radiating from his face.

"Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake!" John ordered: "Breathe, Rodney. Slowly. In and out. That's it, you're doing it," he coaxed, holding Rodney's gaze.

He held McKay's hand as the drugs kicked in, watched as the tears of frustration and fear that ran down the man's cheeks slowly dried away, saw his eyes glace over once more and his body slump in renewed apathy. He could've wept of gratitude when Rodney closed his eyes and fell blissfully asleep.

If they weren't rescued within the following twelve hours...

Hours snailed away as John sat watch by Rodney's side, hoping and praying familiar faces would appear from the other side of those bars to take them away. Rodney awoke again, still plagued with that blasted fever, and John could do nothing but offer him the last few droplets of water they had amongst them.

"Soon, Rodney," he assured him, only wishing he could convince himself as well. Rodney gave him a tired little smile full of trust and leaned his head against the wall as he looked at him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"For what?" John growled, bothered by the blatant trust bestowed on him.

"For keeping me company."

"My pleasure, McKay." They looked at each other for a while in silent appreciation. It was then all hell broke loose in the corridor outside the cell. John got to his feet and rushed over to the bars, following the sounds of screams and explosions. Then he ran back over to Rodney and dragged him up on his feet.

"They're coming, Rodney! You need to hang on to me now, you hear me, hang on for dear life- because this is going to be a bumpy ride," he urged as he pulled Rodney's arm over his shoulder to prop him up.

"Yessir!" Rodney mumbled, head bobbing softly towards his chest.

"Over here!" John hollered as he heard the familiar sounds of explosions and stun guns grow closer and closer. Ronon Dex was of course the first who came blasting through the bars and tossed him a weapon at the same time as he flung Rodney's free arm over his shoulder.

"He's even heavier!" Ronon growled, earning John's first heartfelt grin in days.

"Let's get him back home safely."


	11. Coming To Terms

**Chapter 11 Coming To Terms**

Rodney only had vague memories of his time in the wraith hive ship, and most of that had become a blur during two exhausting days in a crowded jumper coming down from the Exhimole. Thankfully Carson was able to ease the withdrawal symptoms with small doses of the drug, keeping the heartburn and spasms to a bare minimum. Without it Rodney would probably have suffered a stroke, maybe worse.

By the end of the second day of feeling trapped in a small tin can on the very brink of space Rodney was about to loose what little patience and sanity he had left. If he received _one more_ worried look from any given person in his immediate radius he would scream at the top of his lungs. Thankfully the Deadalus knew when to drop out of hyperspace right in front of their noses.

Being carried into the sickbay like a little kid by Ronon Dex was just another nail in the coffin for his self-esteem, and when the man needed to sit down to get his breath back afterwards Rodney barely raised an eyebrow. Seriously, he was a pregnant man, and apparently, the key to some secret wraith weapon of some sort. Rodney was pretty certain nothing would be able to embarrass him any more. Then Carson walked up to his bed in the infirmary.

"When we get back to Atlantis we need to have a talk about the birth!"

The birth... Oh fuck!

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was home. Rodney took in the safety of Atlantis' strong walls with a hidden sorrow in his heart. Thankfully Carson had been able to do most of the research and checkups required on the journey back with the Deadalus, so Rodney was free to run into hiding in his own quarters after a short debriefing with Elizabeth Weir. He charged straight to the bed, where he promptly sat down and bawled his eyes out. He was mentally famished, so ridiculously drained after acting calm and none baffled the last five days after the rescue that he was on the verge to explode.

He'd smiled and thanked everybody responsible for getting him safely back to Atlantis, and he kindly rejected every kind offer of comfort and help. He just wanted to get back to his life, reclaim his independence and become good old self-absorbed saviour of the universe again. To bad his old reliance was shattered into oblivion then. He was reduced to a blithering crying mass of hormones, no good to anyone anymore.

He had all the friends he would ever need on this base, never the less he felt dreadfully alone. And who wouldn't in his situation?

A sudden and abrupt knock to his door made him jump, and when the door whooshed open a few seconds later Rodney let out an involuntary squeak of surprise.

"Hello Rodney, I thought you wouldn't mind a visit."

Carson. Bloody frikkin' Carson! Rodney was fast to wipe his eyes and he immediately went into full attack mode.

"Have you ever heard about calling before dropping in on a "visit", Carson?!" he bellowed, getting to his feet as he tried to save what little male stamina he had left.

"Yeah, you would probably hide in the bathroom and claim you "didn't hear me"," Carson answered him sweetly, a hint of sarcasm underlining his words.

"I just want to be left alone," Rodney growled: "is there anything wrong with that?"

"Rodney..." The softness in Carson's eyes became unbearable and Rodney threw his glare down, disarmed.

"When are you going to realize we will never think any less of you if you show us some human emotion once in a while?"

Rodney looked at him incredulously.

"Are you kidding me? I'm the bloody encyclopedia on human emotion for peeve's sake!"

"All right, Rodney. I'm going to make this short, because I'm not here to fight," Carson murmured. "You're exhausted and hormonal right now, probably so tired you can't stand, less think straight. Therefore I'm going to ignore all your shots at picking a fight and just humor your attempts at throwing me out. Then I'm going to draw you a hot bath, get you cleaned up, make sure you eat something, and then I'll get you to bed and sit by your side until you're sound asleep." He gave Rodney a soft pat to his shoulder.

"All right?"

Rodney looked at him, dumbfounded. Once more Carson Beckett had him lost for words. He simply abided as Carson navigated him towards the bathroom, watched silently as the doctor drew him a bath and undressed with clumsy movements when told so. It was actually nice for a change, to be told what to do. Maybe he should loose control once in a while and let others lead him. Nice thought, but knowing himself he would be the same self reliant git by the morning.

Normally he would be blushing like a virgin standing there in his birthday suit, but knowing what was waiting down the road Rodney figured it was about bloody time he had some more practice in letting his guard down in front of Carson. There was nothing less graceful in this world than Rodney trying to enter a bathtub in his current condition.

"How's your back treating you these days?" Carson asked as he helped Rodney sit down without breaking his neck.

"No medical questions what so ever during bath time!" Rodney barked. "It hurts, by the way!" he added.

"I guess I can save those for tomorrow's check up," Carson smiled: "now lean back and relax, you grumpy ol' git!"

With an offended grunt Rodney applied to the doctor's orders.

"You're a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?!" he growled as he closed his eyes and let his body relax. Seconds later a strange sound reached his ears. It was a soft chuckle at first, descending down on him like fresh summer rain, until it grew into a whole symphony of heart and joy, so mysterious and strange that Rodney opened his eyes to find Carson laughing so hard tears were starting to spurt from his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry?! Am I amusing you, doc?!" Rodney spat, cheeks instantly flushing red with insult and embarrassment. He tried to hide the stomach under foam and bubbles, feeling terribly naked in front of the man cackling at him like a mad man.

"_I'm_ a pain in the ass?" Carson beamed, as he clutched his stomach, not able to stop laughing:

"Says the man who's about to give birth through his butt!"

Rodney's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, hands gripping the sides of the bathtub as his jaw clenched with obvious scorn. The infamous McKay wrath was about to be stowed upon the doctor like hell it self, until Rodney caught a glimpse of Carson's face and saw the boyish amusement radiating from his eyes. The anger evaporated as the smallest of chuckles betrayed him and escaped through his nose like an involuntary snort.

"That'll show you pain in the ass!" Carson howled, squinting his eyes as he giggled like a little girl, shoulders shaking merrily. That was the final straw. Rodney burst into uncontrollable chuckles that grew into him laughing so hard his stomach got upset. It was ridiculous, not even funny, but he couldn't help it. Carson's way of pin pointing Rodney's stress and worries and turning them into a childish joke would normally be deadly abusive to the receiver. But there was pure innocent amusement in Carson's face, and it was so infectious that he had no choice but to succumb.

"You _ass_," he moaned as his stomach cramped in refusal to the abuse, receiving another wave of girlish giggles from Carson who was desperately wiping his eyes.

"Dear Lord, Rodney. I think I'm having a heart attack!" he whimpered, as he continued to guffaw and dry tears.

"Serves you well!" Rodney giggled. The laughter bobbled through his body like champagne, making his body shake with something that oddly enough reminded him of happiness. Never in a million years had he believed he would be able to laugh about this whole mess, and now look at him- naked in a bathtub, laughing like a maniac together with Carson Beckett.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Carson was infamous for his blatant disability to avoid difficult topics. When tippy toeing around Rodney McKay that was potentially deadly, and all the more impossible to avoid. It was like getting a funny image stuck in your head at a funeral, and the following desperate attempt at not bursting into laughter in the middle of the church. To joke about something that might potentially kill Rodney further down the line was flat out preposterous, and yet Carson couldn't help himself. Months of worrying and fussing on behalf of a friend had been leading to this, and when the moment of breakdown came Carson had no choice but to laugh his wits out. He was eternally grateful Rodney didn't throw him head first out of the bathroom. Thankfully the scientist saw beyond the skin deep insult and saw the love and consideration that lingered underneath.

Finally both men calmed down, avoiding eye contact with each other as it set off new waves of laughing fits. Carson hadn't laughed so hard in years, and his stomach was aching together with his chest. But the best reward still was seeing Rodney truly happy again, even so for just a brief moment. Sure, he looked satisfied and even content once in a while, but pure undistilled joy was a rare commodity for the scientist even before all of this had started. The way his eyes lit up and the way his mouth brightened up his face with that crooked grin showed Carson the carefree, happy boy Rodney once had been many, many years ago before life's burdens started to weigh him down.

They sat in silence for a while. Rodney had a peaceful expression on his face, half asleep, and Carson watched how the top of his belly was bobbing lazily up and down in the surface of the water. He was overcome with a sudden urge to touch the flesh, to feel the life beneath it, and his fingers were already hovering over McKay's abdomen before he managed to stop himself. But he wasn't able to retract his hand in time. He could feel Rodney's eyes on him before their eyes met, and he froze, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Now this could be potentially awkward," Rodney mumbled, a slight blush growing on his cheeks. "Where exactly were you going with that?" He pointed towards the outstretched arm. Now it was Carson's turn to blush. His cheeks grew violent red and his ears caught on fire as he snapped the arm to his side, not even knowing what had taken control over it in the first place.

"I'm sorry... You know... pregnant bellies, they're like giant magnets..." he squeaked.

"Yeah, on _women_," Rodney pointed out, then rolled his eyes and sighed. "All right then, get it out of your system." He gestured towards the gut with a knowing mine on his smug face. Carson sat back, arms across his chest, flustered.

"I _have_ touched your belly before you know!" he remarked, a panicked frown forming on his brow.

"Sure, as a doctor. But we're out of the office now, aren't we Doc?!" There was a dry superiority in Rodney's voice, revealing how much he enjoyed having the upper hand on Carson for once.

"I've seen the puppy dog eyes you get sometimes around pregnant women. They fascinate you."

Damn Rodney McKay and his Beckett- intuition.

"I'm sorry Rodney. It was wrong of me. I realized that just before... I would never have touched you without permission."

"Well, I just gave it," Rodney replied: "anyone finding my bloated gut fascinating and not horrifying is alright touching it by me. Is that a weird fetish of yours, touching pregnant women?" he then added, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

"You're not a woman, are you," Carson answered heavily.

"No, I'm an awfully pregnant man who hopefully won't stay that way much longer. This is a one time offer, now touch me or forever keep your paws to yourself!" Rodney ordered. "I guess it'll be the closest I'll get to second base ever again after the rumors of my "condition" reaches earth. No woman will touch me ever again."

Carson's eyes lingered on Rodney's face, searching for any hidden reason why he shouldn't pursue this. When all he found was an impatient invitation he hesitantly reached out towards Rodney's stomach. It was as amazing as any pregnant belly, the skin shining in the soft bathroom light, slick and wet from warm water and soap. A hard, yet surprisingly soft surface hiding something truly amazing. He placed a warm palm on top of it, unable to hide his sense of awe as a tiny foot or hand thrust towards him, making Rodney grunt in discomfort.

"Little bugger's head butting my bladder," he growled.

"You know how you McKays are with confined spaces," Carson murmured, as his fingers traced the movements with childish curiosity.

"Ha, ha," Rodney replied, the typical sting painting his scorn. But as Carson looked up he noticed something different in Rodney's face. The typical front of sarcasm in his voice was betrayed by a rare velvet in his eyes. The fear, the anger, the worries and the bitterness was still pulsating from his body, but together with the pain and fear something new had entered the steel grey gaze of Rodney McKay. Acceptance.

"Rodney..." Carson didn't know how to express the well of feelings that rushed through his heart. He felt incredibly lucky to be able to share this delicate and intimate moment with his best friend. Rodney had been dragged into the mud and held down, he'd fought his way back in more ways than one, and although he was still struggling with the aftermath of all that had happened to him the last year he had grown into the man Carson knew had been there all along.

His breath hitched as their eyes locked, and for a moment Carson sat there heart on his sleeve, certain he'd revealed it all. His hand resting tenderly on Rodney's belly, his cheeks and ears burning with more than modesty as a gentle smile entered Rodney's face and he tilted his head a little to the side as he studied Carson's face.

"You know, this might be the hormones speaking, and I'll probably deny everything in the morning but I need to tell you something, no matter how cheesy it sounds." Rodney's voice was honest and sweet, peeling Carson layer by layer until he was quite certain there was nothing left but his pounding heart.

"You're my best friend, Carson. You've always accepted me just the way I am and you've never tried to change me. You make me feel important, even when I'm not and you never condemn me, even when I mess up. Just look at you now, most people don't stand to be within a five meter radius of me, like I'm the carrier of something deadly and contagious like the black plague. And here you are touching me like there's nothing odd about the situation, touching me... touching me- like I'm ...beautiful even. You have no idea of how much that means to me. I... I should've told you more often, every day, how much I appreciate our friendship." The last words came as a stuttering confession, and Rodney's flustered cheeks told Carson how difficult those sentences had been to say out loud.

That only made the message even more valuable to Carson who suddenly realized the pain he was experiencing in his chest probably came from the fact that he'd stopped breathing. He took a staggering breath, and finally withdrew his hand, feeling blessed to have shared such a tender moment with Rodney.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"You're welcome, buddy!" Rodney replied, a satisfied smirk on his face. He had no idea of the impact his words had made on his friend.

"I guess we better get you out of that water before you turn into a raisin, Dr. McKay," Carson suggested after a while, and handed Rodney a towel.

"I think that ship has sailed," Rodney mourned as he waved five pruned up toes in the air: "and I think gravity also wants to have a say in the matter," he added. He grabbed Carson's outstretched arms and pulled up from the water with a grunt. Graceful movements had never been Rodney's strength and surely enough, His foot slipped as he was about to step out of the tub. Carson's reflexes were the only thing stopping him from going teeth first to the floor.

"Easy there, sailor!" Carson suddenly found himself in an unusual predicament, as he and Rodney ended up stomach towards stomach, face to face. He looked down at the point of contact between them, and his mind slowly realized he was invading the comfort zone of a very naked Rodney McKay. Rodney's face turned the usual wide eyed horror at first, much like the same face he'd pulled after the infamous bed sharing incident a couple of months earlier. Then his shoulders relaxed and his eyes calmed down.

"Slippery when wet," he applied with a smirk as he backed up, leaving a wet belly print on Carson's shirt. Then the self-conscious side of him took control again and he wrapped himself up in the towel like a bashful virgin.

Carson looked down on the imprint Rodney had left on his shirt and couldn't help but smile.


	12. Ghosts From The Past

**Chapter 12 Ghosts From The Past**

As expected Rodney was his old grumpy self again the morning after. He arrived at Carson's office with a dissatisfied scowl on his face.

"Is it really necessary with another check-up?!" he barked as he stomped five steps over the floor and stopped above Carson's desk.

"Yes, I wasn't able to do a full body scan back at the Deadalus, and I need all the information I can get on how your system may have responded to being kept in wraith captivity." Carson's answer was calm and patient.

"All right, let's get started then. I'm going down to the lab to supervise Zelenka!"

"You know there's a reason why I took you off active duty," Carson started, but was cut off abruptly.

"Supervising is NOT working!" Rodney growled. The news had been delivered to him the same morning during the staff meeting, and there was no doubt Rodney was not pleased to set his career on a temporary hold.

"You should've been taken off active duty three months ago Rodney, be pleased you were able to hold on for so long. Most women have gone into maternity leave when they've passed 38 weeks!"

Carson shoved the pissed scientist down on the examination table and was pleased to see the resistance in Rodney's eyes. He trusted the infamous McKay stubbornness would get him trough the coming ordeal.

"Now, try to lay still for ten seconds so the scanner and I can do our work," he told him firmly, and was rewarded with an impatient huff. The laser beams worked their way slowly up and down Rodney's body, green lights flickering on Carson's monitor all the way from Rodney's toes, up his legs, thighs, climbing that enormous gut before rolling over his chest, his throat, and finally his head. There was a small "bleep" and the light flickered red as it passed Rodney's ears.

"That's odd," Carson muttered, more to himself than to the fuming patient.

"What!" Rodney snapped, eyes bright with worry in an instant.

"It's probably nothing," Carson mumbled as he turned Rodney's head to the side: "I'm just going to check your right ear to be sure..." Carson moved closer to have a peek into Rodney's external auditory canal. A slight frown grew on his brow as he noticed something small lodged towards the tympanic membrane.

"Have you felt any discomfort in your ear?" he asked as he reached for and picked up a pair of tweezers.

"Nah. A slight itch, maybe?" Rodney pondered: "I guess I haven't paid much attention to my ears lately, given the fact that I'm dragging around 40 pounds of extra padding downstairs these days!"

"No need to be snappy, Rodney," Carson told him calmly as he carefully extracted the tweezers. Seconds later he was studying what looked like a tiny lump of metal, about half the size of a junior mint.

"Did you find something?" Rodney's arms were flailing helplessly as he tried to sit up without help. Carson put aside the tiny pebble and offered Rodney a helping hand.

"It was a grain of sand, it probably got lodged into your ear canal when you were captured last week."

"A grain of sand... What's next, dandruff alerts?" Rodney snarked as he got to his feet. He looked exhausted, but was in total denial as usual.

"Try to take it easy from now on Rodney. You can go into labour any minute at this stage." He noticed how Rodney's entire body tensed.

"We need to sit down and talk through this, soon, you know that. You need to know what to expect during the birth."

"I expect pain and humiliation, believe me: I'm prepared," Rodney answered him grievously and left the infirmary without another word.

Carson let him go, knowing when not to push matters further. Besides he had another matter to attend to, the small pebble of metal he'd just removed from McKay's ear. He had a bad feeling about this, and minutes later he summoned Weir and Sheppard over the intercom.

They arrived a few minutes later.

"What's up, doc?" John asked as he strolled inside.

"I found a tracking device on Rodney." Carson didn't beat around the bush. "It's wraith made, probably a subspace tracker. Atlantis may be compromised."

John muttered a few curses under his breath, while Elizabeth's pale frame remained calm.

"Does Rodney know?" she asked. Carson shook his head.

"Good. We'll keep it that way. John, you alert Zelenka and make sure the long range space trackers are on high alert. If an army of Hive ships are on their way I need to know about it as soon as possible!"

"I need to do a full body scan and check you for bugs as well, John." Carson gestured towards the examination table.

"But if Rodney had a fully operational tracking device on him, wouldn't the wraith have tracked your jumper down when you escaped?" Elizabeth interjected, a confused frown on her face.

"The jumper's cloaking device also jams tracking signals," John explained as he lay down on the table: "The only time the Hive would be able to track us would be when we were in the Deadalus, the signal would've disappeared again as soon as we landed in Atlantis."

"But all the wraith have to do is add two and two together and check the position where the signal disappeared. It wouldn't take them long to realize that Atlantis has been here all along," Carson continued for him. "Therefore we need to take Rodney's tracking device," he paused for a moment as he extracted something from John's ear: "...and yours, as far away from here as possible while they're still sending signals."

"I'll alert Colonel Caldwell right away. Meet me up at the control room in ten minutes," Elizabeth ordered: "And try to keep Rodney out of this!"

"Aye, maam," Carson agreed as he was placing the tiny devices into an empty pill jar.

"How come you know so much about alien tracking devices, Carson?" John asked him curiously: "You're not a technician."

"I guess spending a lot of time with Rodney in the infirmary with all his little cuts and bruises must have rubbed off on me the last three years," Carson mused, with a soft smile on his face.

"Besides, it doesn't hurt to have one of Rodney's fancy "wraith detection devices" at hand either," he added with a smirk as he nodded towards a modified life signs detector. Then his face went grave and he stared at the bottle in his hand for a moment.

"I only hope we found these in time," he worried. The frown he received from John wasn't much of a comfort at all...

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

John Sheppard was in charge of the preparations to the Deadalus' mission where Colonel Caldwell and his team were to transport the tracking devices to a small inhabited planet where they would be planted together with the burned out wreckage of a Puddle Jumper. The hope was to make the wraith believe the jumper had crashed there, killing the passengers at impact. Hopefully the wraith would follow the trail, without stopping to wonder why the trackers had stopped for one day, in orbit over the very planet where Atlantis had been located before it were, seemingly blown to smithereens.

It was a long shot, at best. But they had to give it a try.

Elizabeth Weir sat silently in her office as the day swept by, delegating the teams like chess pieces, while simultaneously making sure the queen were kept in the dark about the operation. She knew there would be hell to pay when Rodney found out, but at this time there was no use in adding further stress to his situation. If the Wraith were coming, they would be coming for him, and there was no way in hell she was telling him that until the wraith were knocking on their door.

Rodney spent the day in ignorant bliss, not knowing anything about the mayhem of operations taking place in utter secrecy right beneath his nose. Elizabeth Weir and the rest of the small crew knowing about the operation should thank their lucky stars that he was having a severe migraine that forced him to lie down for a couple of hours midday. Radek Zelenka was temporary head of the Science Department, much to Rodney's utter loathing, and he had been given the impossible task of bringing the city to high alert without Rodney noticing it.

After three hours of somewhat relaxed rest Rodney decided to have the rest of the day off. He was relived of duty any way, but Rodney McKay didn't leave the city of Atlantis in incapable hands voluntarily, orders or not. But given the fact that he'd been kidnapped, drugged and dragged halfway across the galaxy the latest week Rodney decided Zelenka could do his chores without Rodney supervising him for one day at least. Without even realising it had been on his mind all along he went over to his desk where he retrieved a small cam recorder.

He was going to make a video message for his sister. She had lingered in his mind after she left and he hated the matters of why they had come to part. Beyond anything he needed her to understand his frustrations and fears, make her see his part in all of this. That the baby would be better off without him, that _he_ would be better off... Rodney pushed record and stared into the camera but not one word escaped his mouth as he stared into the lens.

Would he? Would he continue to exist happily in the world, knowing that out there was a part of him living his life without knowledge of his origins? Could he really surrender his flesh and blood to others without ever wondering if this child would grow up to be happy and loved? An image of himself, about six years old, fleeted into his mind. He was hiding in a cupboard, covering his ears with his hands. Outside his parents were yelling at each other, and in the distance was the sound of baby Jeannie crying.

His parents had loved him and his sister in their own way. But the love between them had died and withered away during the early years of Rodney's life. Their bickering and yelling became a part of the daily life of the McKay household, and Rodney had to live in constant fear of his family being exposed. Their father's drinking and violent temper combined with their mother's cowering and secret pill addiction was hard enough to cope with for a six year old, but it was the life he knew.

His greatest fear was to be taken away from the only reality he knew, no matter how glum it might be. He had his sister, and she had him, until they went their separate ways to go to school. They had been close back then, supported each other and she was always there for him in those desperate moments when the world felt like it was about to break. He'd been the caretaker of his family by the age of six, keeping up their appearances, making sure no one outside their family got to know the real faces of Mr. and Mrs. McKay. As an escape he had turned to music in his earlier years.

He decided to become a famous pianist, so that he and Jeannie could escape from their parents and live their lives in grand hotel rooms around the world. His career was shot down and killed long before his first concert though. His Piano teacher, Miss Cleaver, a dreadful old bat that smelled like moth balls and cranberry juice, discouraged him from chasing his childhood dream, forcefully telling him he had no sense of the art. Nine years old Rodney turned to science because he thought it would be the farthest away from his previous pursuit, but the boy soon discovered science was just as much of an art form as anything else.

"Hi Jeannie. I miss you, you know," he spoke softly as his eyes cleared up and he looked into the camera lens: "It was always you and me when we were younger, us against them... Our parents, the world... Now we're worlds apart instead," he sighed as he lowered his gaze for a moment: "I wish we could have parted as friends, despite our different opinions on certain matters... I know you only wish me the best, and that you have my best interest in mind, and I take great comfort in that. But sometimes… Sometimes I think you overestimate me and what I'm capable of. You turned out a great mother, despite our parents. You're a natural. But me?" he touched his chest for emphasis: "You know me, Jeannie. I'm an impatient, demanding, self indulged, brutally honest bugger with a God complex. I'm pretty sure that's an unhealthy environment for a child to grow up in. And with the work hours I log around here the kid would be lucky to spend any time with me at all. I would be the most selfish guy in the world if I decided to keep a baby on such terms, and you know that, don't you? I wish there was a way I..." He stopped speaking, lost for words.

This experience was changing him, little by little, day by day. He had grown, in his own way, to care for the life he was hosting, and he was worrying about the impact his decisions would have on somebody else than himself for the first time in his life since childhood. A world not revolving around himself scared the shit out of Rodney McKay.

He shut the cam recorder off, feeling completely bewildered. He could go into labour any minute, and he hadn't even started looking for parents for the baby he was carrying. He'd put it on hold so many times, thinking the occasion would present itself naturally. Or had he? Was there other reasons lingering in his mind? It wasn't simply ignoring the pink elephant in the room any more. Rodney had grown to accept the situation and what inevitably was to come. He had come to terms with the fact that he was going through with this no matter what, so why couldn't he make the final arrangements for what was to come after the birth?

This child deserved to be greeted into the world by parents that would love him and take care of him from the second he arrived. He wasn't a parcel that could be stowed away for a few weeks while Rodney picked a good adoption agency. This was an urgent matter that should have been dealt with months ago, but still Rodney wasn't able to make the final arrangements. Teyla had given him a list with suitable Athosian couples who would become great parents for a child, and there was also the option of making an arrangement with an adoption agency back on earth. There would be a hell of a paper mill of course, but at least the child would grow up safe from Wraith cullings and other plagues of the universe.

"Why is it everything I decide is for the best suddenly backfires every time you turn around in there?" he tiredly thought as he rubbed his side absentmindedly. He was stalling and he knew it, but he couldn't bring forth the energy or willpower he needed to make a decision.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The secret operation had so far been a success. Colonel Caldwell and his team on the Deadalus had planted the tracking device together with the shattered remains of a scrapped Puddle Jumper, and returned to Atlantis a few days later from a "recognisance mission".

A week went by. No Wraith ships showed up on the long range scanning devices. The Deadalus had returned from its mission, and Zelenka was so far successful at keeping Rodney in the dark about the higher state of alert. Rodney had been curiously silent and withdrawn the last week. He kept mostly to himself, and the few times he was seen outside his quarters he seemed distant and tired. He had delivered a personal video message to earth a couple of days ago. His hand had literally been shaking as he hesitantly gave it to Radek who was in charge of all messages routed to earth while Rodney was on a temporary leave of absence.

"It's for her eyes only!" he stressed, actual beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as Radek had to pry the tape out of his grip.

It would only be a matter of time before the SG1 would raise questions about Rodney's sudden absence, but Elizabeth Weir had already come up with a suitable cover story. There was no need for anyone on earth to know the true story behind Rodney McKay's unusual need for some time off.

Carson Beckett had busy days in the infirmary, making a kind of make shift maternity ward for the coming occasion. John Sheppard was keeping track of his every move, apparently starting to feel anxious himself about what was about to happen.

"What's the big fuss? You have handled births before?" John asked curiously as he watched Carson cart equipment back and forth in the infirmary's most private quarters. Carson gave him a stern look.

"Are you kidding me?! This is _nothing _like a normal birth. And besides: we're not equipped to handle these kinds of situations. We have no maternity ward."

"Well, Atlantians gave birth in the olden days, didn't they?!" John asked, lip curling knowingly.

"Yes, but so far we haven't found anything that resembles a maternity ward," Carson sighed and dragged more equipment over the floor.

"But what about the lab with the terrifying X-ray vision machine then?"

"That was a research facility, nothing more."

"Oh. Bugger!" John added, with feeling. He picked up one of the life signs detectors Carson was stowing away and watched a hovering white blob located in McKay's quarters. He studied the blob with interest for a few seconds, then exclaimed:

"Look, even Rodney's life sign is getting bigger." And he was right, the little blot blinking on the screen was indeed bigger than the other life sign readings.

"It's actually picking up two life signs," Carson explained. "You can see the same when two people are standing really close."

"Or are doing other shenanigans?" John pondered with a smirk.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Day and night kind of blended together in a never ending soup of nothingness. Without work Rodney had nothing to hold on to as the days went by, and he went from being a constant pain in the ass meddling observer to a mere bystander within days. From there the road to shadow lurking in the corner and to total absent was short.

Atlantis did well without him, and there was nothing left for him to do but to wait for the inevitable. Any day now, Carson told him, every time he went for a check-up. The baby was full grown, ready to be born. But the stubborn little bastard seemed to be holding on for dear life inside him. Rodney just wanted it to get over with. He had realized he wasn't able to find the baby a home until it had been born. Carson had tried to prepare him in some ways about what to expect when the time came, but truth to be told, Carson had to admit he had no idea of what would happen. This was uncharted waters, they would have to take it to one shoreline at a time.

He had actually posted the video message for his sister. He had stuttered his way through some sort of explanation and confession of some sorts on his short comings as a human being and his lack of parenting gene, without coming to a conclusion one way or the other on the baby's behalf.

"What's happening to me?! If I had the chance I would've cut it out of me the second I found out, and now I can't even decide how to give it away!"

He tried to envision himself five years from now, holding the Nobel Prize in his hands, a smug grin on his face. But the future seemed so distant now, so out of focus compared to what it had been. Was it the possibility of him not coming out of this alive, or was there something completely different that had taken hold of his visions?

It was late night as footsteps were heard down in the abandoned corridors of level Three. Rodney hadn't been able to sleep, his restless stomach draining what little left he had of energy. At last he stood up from bed, got dressed and headed out into the corridors, a half formed plan tingling in his brain.

He found the facility easily enough, as nothing had dampened his sense of memory and direction, and he entered the room with hesitant steps. The many devices had been covered with sheets of plastic waiting for Atlantian personnel to investigate them further. Rodney went with steady steps over to the cloaked machine he had encountered once before. As he approached it the device woke to life with a humming noise, and as he removed the cloak the images of an unborn baby appeared on the screen.

"There you are," he muttered and touched a painfully stretched abdomen with sensitive fingers. "You've grown," he then added, his voice a little more sensitive.

He was the blatant cynic who needed to see to believe, he wasn't harbouring the "Peter Pan" syndrome that would have him chirping "Believing is seeing!" and then jump head first into some make believe adventure. He wouldn't spontaneously start to believe in fairies just because somebody told him they were true. He was so far down the line that he needed to set his mind at rest, some proof that there still was a living, breathing baby boy inside of him.

"You're making my life a hell of a lot more complicated, you know that," he mumbled as he watched, and felt, a foot stretch and grace his ribs. He watched the crouching little figure, cramped for space, but apparently comfortable still the way the little body was embracing itself. His eyes was closed, and Rodney figured he was sleeping. Unless babies were like kittens? He frowned by his own ignorance.

He stared at the image of the sleeping baby inside him, wanting, hoping, needing the answers for the questions that were soaring through his mind, but no answers came to him, only more questions, more guilt, and more insecurity. He felt completely lost, so terribly alone, knowing it was all up to him. The decision was his to make and his alone.

"Please," he whispered to the fleeting image in front of him: "...please don't hate me for doing this to you..."

He left level Three with a heavy heart, as he made his way back to his quarters on weary feet. He was so damned tired.


	13. Courage Is A Small Country In Scandinavi

**Chapter 13**** Courage Is A Small Country In Scandinavia**

At first he barely noticed the small twinges tingling in his lower back as he woke up the following morning. He simply wrote it off as a new way for his body to play havoc on him and dragged himself off to have some breakfast. The food tasted like ashes in his mouth though and he shoved the tray away with a dissatisfied grunt. He felt so odd, like his whole body was tensing up, and he was wondering whether or not he should mention it to Carson at his daily check-up.

"Are you sure you should be up and about Rodney, you don't look so good," Elizabeth Weir told him as she joined him by the table.

"I'm fine," Rodney groaned, not even bothering to sound convincing. He felt like he was about to explode, his bowels was acting up on him, and he hadn't been able to do his morning business. That led to a very grumpy, slightly constipated scientist.

"Ouch!" he growled as a new series of pain tingled through his back. Elizabeth picked up the distress in his voice and posture instantly.

"I think you should take a trip to the infirmary, Rodney."

"I'm fine, I told you!" Rodney snapped, sick and tired of everybody telling him how awful he was looking all the time.

"Rodney," Elizabeth told him gently: "I think you're having contractions."

Rodney looked at her, completely emotionless for the good half of a second, until his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"I'm having contractions!" he gasped: "Holy shit, I'm in LABOUR!!!"

"Alright Rodney, calm down. I'm sure we have plenty of time to get you down to the infir..." Elizabeth stopped talking, realising Rodney had already stood up and left the table and was heading out the door in surprising speed regarding his condition.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Where's Carson!" Rodney yelled as he huffed his way into the infirmary, legs spread wide, and arms cradling his belly. The walking cliché of a pregnant woman.

"Relax, Rodney! The baby isn't going to _fall_ out of you," Carson barked as he rolled his eyes. But the speed and efficiency of which he got Rodney to lie down on the nearest examination table displayed the good doctor's obvious nerves. Rodney held his hands up in mock apologetic manner as the Doctor threw himself at him and rolled his shirt up.

"Sure, go to town!" he snapped as two belts were strapped to his stomach and was further connected to a screen that made annoying blipping noises.

"Ever heard of personal space?!"

"How long have you been having contractions and how far are they apart?" Carson asked, with a stern frown of worry in his face as he attacked Rodney's arm with a blood pressure cuff. He muttered under his breath as he was reading the patient's blood pressure.

"I don't know... Since this morning, maybe? Coming now and then," Rodney answered, seemingly relaxed as he had made it to the infirmary without dropping the baby on the floor in the progress. Carson worked in silence for a few moments, collecting information from the monitors above their heads.

"Well, both daddy and baby seem to be doing just fine," Carson sighed after a while, a relieved look on his face as he watched the screen.

"The EFM monitors your contractions and the baby's condition during labour." Carson elaborated, nodding towards Rodney's distressed stomach.

"So that's what these fancy belts are..." Rodney growled, picking at one of them.

"External foetal monitoring uses two belts," Carson explained: "This one uses ultrasound to measure your baby's heart rate and this one here is a pressure transducer used to measure your contractions. I'm going to leave these on for about twenty minutes, and during this all you have to do is to lay back and relax." Carson actually had the nerve to pat Rodney's gut as he smiled sweetly.

"So, how long is this going to take, an hour or so?" Rodney asked, already bored beyond infinity and eager to get his old life back.

"An hour?!" Carson yelped: "My god, Rodney- you really _don't _know anything about childbirth, do you?!"

"Sure I do. Water breaks, you yell "My water broke!" and you huff and puff a little, and voilah: baby's out!" Rodney explained with certitude. Carson gave him that type of look he usually only granted the hopelessly drunk and bewildered.

"Random TV-shows are hardly the best medical dictionary, Rodney!" he growled.

"You have hours and hours of hard work ahead of you. I suggest you spend the next few hours trying to relax and gather some strength."

"The next hours? How long is this going to take?!" Rodney probably looked as confused as he felt. He had honestly believed that birth would be a quick experience, even for him. He tensed up a little as new series of twinges started to gnaw at his lower back.

"I see," Carson murmured as he was watching the readings spike on the monitor above him: "Your contractions are approximately seven minutes apart, so there's plenty of time for me to educate you about the miracles of childbirth." He conveniently ducked to awoid the flying pillow Rodney launched at him.

"You're now in what we simpleminded MDs call "The early phase" of Stage one of labour. That means you have the option to get some rest, or some light work done while you're waiting, although I strongly recommend you stay in the infirmary given the fact that your situation is...unique. When the contractions are about four to five minutes apart you will start to get a little more uncomfortable. The contractions will last up to 60 seconds and it's called "The active phase". This is where most women go to the hospital."

"And what about men?" Rodney spat sarcastically.

"Men tend to stay unpregnant for reasons unknown," Carson told him sweetly- with just that hint of famous Beckett sarcasm: "But when I'm faced with foulmouthed pregnant astrophysicists I usually chain them to a bed to monitor their progress. Now shut up and listen, dammit!"

One fierce glare from the "mom to be" told the doctor that Rodney was still paying attention.

"Then... comes the "Transition Phase"..." Carson continued: "This is one of the shortest parts of labour, it usually doesn't last more than an hour or so- but it's definitely a rough stretch. The contractions may be two or three minutes apart, lasting up to a minute and a half. When this phase is done your cervix will be completely dilated, and the baby is ready to be pushed out."

"Yeey..." Rodney mumbled.

"That initiates the "Second Stage" of labour, and this is where you really have to start working. This may last three to four hours, but it varies from woman to woman... err... and I don't really know what to expect from men.. This stage ends with the birth of the baby..."

"Woot woot," Rodney feebly rejoiced.

"...and kicks off the "Third Stage", delivering the placenta."

Rodney promptly fainted.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Carson knew hell was awaiting him. Rodney McKay was an awful patient when he came to the infirmary with a splinter in his finger, how he would react to delivering a full term baby was anyone's guess. He watched him lying on the examination table passed out from Carson's crash course in the progress of childbirth, and silently wondered if he should tell him about all the juicy details he'd left out.

Truth was; Carson wasn't really sure what to expect. As much as the artificial womb implanted inside Rodney was constructed and triggered almost in full extent to mimic a normal pregnancy there were many things that could unfold different from a vaginal birth. What worried him most was the actual delivery. If the cervix wasn't sufficiently fused with the lower wall of Rodney's sigmoid colon he could tear, risking internal bleeding and the ever hazardous triggering of the failsafe device. He would most likely suffer indescribable pain, and with the possible complications he would probably have to suffer through it without the aid of medication.

And then there was the simple fact that men's hips were narrower than women's, the fact that a rectum would make an awful make shift vagina, and the fact that Rodney McKay was a horrible, horrible patient.

"Maybe I should give him the enema while he's _still_ unconscious..."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The news of Rodney's impending delivery was met with a murmur of fearful anticipation, and the level where the infirmary was located suddenly went silent and desolate, like a ghost town- waiting. It was like the entire Atlantis was holding her breath.

When Rodney awoke an hour later he found himself moved to a more comfortable hospital bed, but still dressed in his work uniform. At least he hadn't been stripped down to his privates and dressed in hospital clothes while he was out, a small gesture he valued never the less. The EFM was still strapped to his midsection, and it was continuing to make annoying bleepety bleep noises.

"Caaarson!" He tried to sit up, feeling increasingly bloated as he stirred. Carson was by his side like Speedy Gonzales, a cheesy smile on his face.

"Time for your enema!" he chirped a little too merrily, almost causing Rodney to faint once more.

"My what?!" Rodney quacked.

"We need to remove all feces from your large bowel before your cervix starts to dilate, and there will be no eating what so ever from this point on until you're finished," Carson explained him calmly, already preparing the tube that was going up Rodney's...

"But... _why_?!?" Rodney wailed. Carson needed but one raised eyebrow to explain matters for him.

Two hours later Rodney was dressed in fresh, crispy white hospital clothes after taking a shower. His glare followed Carson around the room until the Doctor broke down with a moan.

"Rodney! Will you please stop looking at me like I've just violated you?!"

"You _have_ just violated me!" Rodney complained with a foul scowl on his face: "I'm sore all the way up to my..."

"I get it, thank you. No need for the graphics!" Carson blurted out, a pink flush growing on his face. "Believe me, it wasn't a joyful experience for me either!" he snapped. His voice softened as he continued:

"But I have to treat you as a medical professional from now on. I will have to make decisions for you along the way, and I need you to trust me and realize that what I decide is _only_ with your health in consideration."

"And the baby..?"

"And the baby's health to, obviously."

Rodney sighed and squirmed around in the bed. Now that he was finally getting started with the delivery the lethargic state that had been hovering over him the latest week vanished. Although normally clueless about the world outside the parameters of logic and physics, he had an intuition that was terrifyingly accurate. Now he was his old self again: alert and reading the environment with astonishing accuracy.

"There's something going on with Radek," he suddenly decided, talking into the air while Carson was checking the readings from the monitors above them. He noticed the small hint of fear that appeared in Carson's eyes and was all over him like a pit-bull.

"You know!" he concluded: "Spill!"

"I don't know what you mean," Carson tried, pulling a face.

"Radek's up to something, and you know what it is!" Rodney continued with a fierce glare aimed at the man in front of him. "What's going on!"

"Nothing!" Carson stressed: "He's just trying out some new security protocols..."

"WHAT?!?" Rodney was already halfway out of bed. "I spent the good part of five months calibrating and recalibrating those protocols to suit every possible emergency situation. They were tweaked and retweaked to perfection! If that beglassed midget thinks he's going to..."

Carson barely managed to haul Rodney back to bed again.

"You'll deal with that later. Now you have more important work to do!"

"More important?!" Rodney was enraged. How could Carson even compare this with his work here at Atlantis?! He fought back towards Carson's strong arms, but finally gave up when a new set of contractions trickled down his spine. The doctor, apparently, had read his mind.

"I don't compare what you do in Atlantis with what you're about to do here. But if you want to get back to your old life in Atlantis you need all your strength to get through this. So it's actually in everybody's best interest, including Atlantis, that you stay off your feet for some hours and even try to get some sleep."

"Sleep?" Rodney grunted. "It starts... to hurt every... six minutes..."

"Now there's our spring blossom," it cheered from the doorway. Rodney's jaw clenched. He didn't need to look over there to know that John Sheppard was entering the room with a smug grin on his face.

"Looking good, Rodney! All huffed up and red faced. Just like when we're on recon missions," John continued as he dumped down on Rodney's bedside.

"Ever so... graceful... Colonel!" Rodney wheezed as the contraction finally let go and he was able to breathe normally again.

"You look a little damp, is it hot in here?" Sheppard continued, licking a finger and holding it to the air.

"All right, enough teasing, John." Carson warned him: "I don't need Rodney's blood pressure rising through the roof." Amazingly enough John seemed to listen to the Doctor, and there was even a hint of shame in his eyes.

"Sorry, couldn't help it... How are you holding on so far?" he asked, in a much gentler tone. Rodney gave him a suspicious look, but John looked honest and truthful enough.

"It's not so bad. The contractions are getting worse, but it's... manageable."

"That's good..." there was an awkward pause as John seemed to struggle to find the right words.

"Do you want me here... when..?" Rodney's eyes widened when he finally realized what John was hesitantly suggesting.

"No. NO! I want you and everyone else as far away from here as humanly possible when _this_ is going down!" he yelped, a mixture of both fear and embarrassment in his voice. There was a silent huff of relief coming out of John's mouth; barely audible, but loud enough for Rodney to appreciate the offer.

"OK. But if there's anything, call me!" John told him honestly. "I know jack squat about these sort of circumstances, but you're still my team mate."

"Thank you." Rodney didn't blame John for not meeting his gaze.


	14. Revelation

I just wanted to write a little thank you- note to those of you who's following this little story of mine. :-) Thank you for reading! :D

Hugs,

Restina

**Chapter 14**** Revelation**

The contractions were starting to become a real pain in the ass for the expectant Rodney McKay. They were coming at shorter intervals and lasted longer, now there were about 60 seconds of misery every time they kicked in. Carson called this the "second phase" of stage one, the build up to the third and even harder phase. Rodney was closely monitored, as was the baby and though Rodney's blood pressure and temperature were a bit high they were both doing fine considering. Rodney had already been through a couple of physical exams to see how things were evolving... down there, and he was grateful Carson had the good grace to keep quiet during the sessions. Sometimes they would both become a little too talkative during stressful situations, but they both kept quiet through this particular hell of awkwardness. The sound of rubber gloves snapping off Carson's fingers afterwards sent goose bumps down Rodney's spine.

"Please!" he moaned, shutting his eyes.

"Sorry," Carson responded.

"You know I have to do a full internal examination on you when you're further dilated right? I have to check if the fuse between the womb and your colon is holding together as the cervix dilates..."

Rodney managed to grunt a ragged reply:

"Any... excuse to stick a... finger up my… ass!"

"Yes, the only thing missing are the candle lights, otherwise this would be quite the romantic setup," Carson replied sarcastically, but Rodney was too caught up in contractions to respond. He noticed though, that Carson caught something on the intercom and that he went pale within seconds.

"Aye, I understand," he replied, eyes wide: "I'll do my best..."

Rodney gripped the sleeve of the doctor's arm and dragged him within an inch of his face.

"Tell me what's going on, NOW!" he panted, the steel grey in his eyes underlining the order. Carson hesitated for a moment, and then spilled his guts.

"It's a Hive ship. They located it on the long range trackers two hours ago, it's headed this way."

"We have a cloak, they think Atlantis was blown to smithereens," Rodney elaborated, not finding Carson's message too disturbing. It was his idea to mimic the destruction of Atlantis anyway and it had worked like a charm so far.

"We're afraid they might be on to us..." Carson continued, his face draining of even more colour.

"That's ridiculous, we've taken the necessary precautions on off world travels, the cloak makes Atlantis untraceable for unknowing eyes and I've personally..."

"You had a tracking device on you when you came back and so did Sheppard." Carson closed his eyes looking like he was afraid Rodney might hit him. Rodney's hot breath so close to the doctor's scrunched up face seemed to become even more uncomfortable as it turned into short ragged gasps.

"I had a what?! Why... WHY didn't you tell me about this!?" Rodney yelled as he let go of Carson's sleeve and shoved him away.

"I've compromised the entire base! Dammit, Carson, why did you keep this from me?!" he yelled, so upset his fingers started twitching.

"This decision came from Weir herself," Carson told him silently: "She was worried about the impact it could have on you mere hours after your return to the base. _I_ was worried about the failsafe and the preparations to your delivery."

"I don't believe you! How could you!" Rodney screamed, anger now fuelling his voice.

"I trusted you, I put my life in your hands… FUCK!" His fists slammed down into the bed sheets.

"I would never forgive myself if Atlantis was to be destroyed because of me, and what if earth..." A new series of contractions burned like a hot poker down below his bellybutton and cut his rant short.

"A week... On that time I could have..."

"Done half of what Radek's managed to achieve the last week. You're no match to him in your current condition," Carson told him truthfully.

It was like getting the breath slammed out of him.

"What did you just say?" he whispered, his eyes pained with disbelief and disappointment.

"Come on, Rodney! There's been enough on your back the latest time as it is. It would be inhuman of Weir or any of us to expect you to get us out of this mess. This time it's our job to protect _you_."

"Well, excuse me if my level of trust has somewhat faltered the last year…" Rodney snarled. "I've been kidnapped the last _two_ times I've been on a mission!"

"Rodney, please!" Carson's face was raw with emotion and he was breathing heavily.

"You know we did everything in our power to..."

"I was stuck, ALONE, in a cell for _six months_!" Rodney yelled as his face contorted. He threw an arm over his face in a feeble attempt to hide the tears that had started to run down his face.

"Rodney, look at me." Carson's voice grew thick, and Rodney felt him tug softly at his arm.

He closed his eyes, but didn't pull away from the touch. He felt a hand on his cheek and finally opened his eyes.

Carson was crying. Fat tears were slowly running down his cheeks as a rare moment of naked emotion swept over his eyes. There was a pained expression on his face, as if he was struggling back and forth over what he was about to say.

"I love you," he suddenly whispered, with a terrified shiver running over his body as the secret slipped through his lips. Rodney's jaw dropped.

"Huh?"

"I love you, Rodney," Carson repeated in a failing voice as he wiped his cheeks.

"I promised myself never to tell you, because I know you can never return my feelings." Carson closed his eyes as he continued: "I don't expect anything beyond friendship ever evolving between us. It's enough for me to share a part of your life, to be your friend. I only hope this won't mess that up, because it would kill me if this ruins our friendship..."

Rodney watched how Carson straightened his back, as if the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Why… why are you telling me this now?" he muttered. Rodney was starting to believe he'd been warped into a different dimension.

"You have to believe me, Rodney. I would never let anything bad happen to you if it was in my power to prevent it. You're the reason I stayed here in the first place. Do you really think I could leave my family, my mom, back home if there wasn't someone really special keeping me here?"

"I...I... guess. I never really thought about it..." Rodney was too flabbergasted for words. Here his best friend was confessing his secret love to him, while Rodney himself was in labour and Atlantis was under imminent Wraith attack. This was bizzaro world!

"You... love me?!?" The disbelief in his voice was not meant to harm nor to disrespect. Rodney just found it unbelievable that someone could harbour any romantic feelings towards the train wreck that was Rodney McKay.

"How... can you?" he muttered: "How can you love this?!" He gestured rudely towards a body that had been the source of much discomfort and distress his entire life, and even more so during the last year.

Carson looked at him solemnly for a long moment, and Rodney's heart skipped a beat when he heard the reply.

"How could I not?"

And then it hit him. The way Carson behaved around him, the way he looked at him, touched him, the way he talked to him and the way he was always there, no matter what. The way his eyes sometimes lingered on him with something beyond friendship, the way he always waited for permission to step into Rodney's personal space, as if he was afraid to step over invisible boundaries. He was always there, protecting Rodney in his own way, picking him up when he was down, making sure Rodney would get back on his feet to meet another day.

"I was trying to protect you from more harm," Carson explained: "But I shouldn't have lied to you, I'm sorry."

Rodney actually felt relieved when a fresh batch of pain took hold over his body and gave him something constructive to work with while his mind frantically tried to piece together all the new information. He could feel Carson hovering over him, trying to soothe his pain by mere touch of thought. When he finally got his breath back he faced Carson with sorrow in his eyes.

"I don't... I don't know how to..." Carson gently took his hand.

"I know the feelings aren't mutual, Rodney, and I've come to terms with that a long time ago. You don't need to explain anything."

They had shared more than a few hazy platonic moments over the years, moments that could have lead to a further development of their friendship. Carson had always kept his distance though, and Rodney had been too oblivious to notice. Who could love something like him, right?

Carson Beckett. There was more to the beholder than met the eye, Rodney had always known that. Carson was the go to man, the one who experienced all sides of Rodney, good and bad, without flinching. He was the man pinning him down when he was wrong, but never judging him for it. He had the bluest, sweetest eyes he had ever seen, and he was the kindest human being, possibly in the universe.

Rodney was lousy with relationships. They always fell apart, little by little as small details grew monstrous, feelings withered or grew cold. But never Carson. Carson had been his constant over the last three years, the closest Rodney had ever been to a meaningful relationship. They were basically like an old married couple, complete with friendly bickering, they had experienced good times and grave times together, everything a meaningful relationship should contain, save the sex. Rodney was surprised by the pain he felt, knowing that he wasn't able to return Carson's feelings.

He grabbed Carson's hand and embraced it; all anger vanished from his body.

"Thank you," he murmured, eyes tender with affection. A sad, but content smile washed over Carson's face as he met Rodney's eyes, as everything they mattered to each other was told by the blink of an eye.

"What do you say I help you deliver this baby, and then we start to worry about saving Atlantis afterwards?"

"Sure, sounds like a good idea," Rodney whispered, too grateful for words.


	15. Enemy Within

**Chapter 15 ****Enemy Within**

John Sheppard was pacing back and forth at the control bridge, glaring at the monitor that showed the approaching Hive ship. They had discovered it five hours ago, and it would reach the outskirts of Atlantis in about thirty minutes. In that half hour they would know if their plan would work or if it had failed. And if it failed... John was awaiting orders to go down to the chair room where he would prepare an attack if needed. As it took time to shift from cloak to shield Atlantis would be extremely vulnerable if the Hive didn't take the bate.

Radek Zelenka was sweating bullets and muttering in Czech as he was working frantically from his station. He had always been Rodney's shadow, but now with Rodney inactivated he had to step forward and take Rodney's place. Radek was a brilliant technician, outstanding at what he did, but not as ingenious as, John hated to admit: Rodney. Radek worked best under Rodney's lead, feeding off his energy and ideas, the two pushing each other forward.

All this waiting was getting to Sheppard's nerves. Now and then he radioed Beckett for updates on McKay's status and things weren't exactly pushing forward at light speed there either. Rodney was increasingly stressed about the situation of possible impending wraith doom, and Carson had a though job keeping the man in bed. John had pondered the idea of relocating Rodney until this was over, but the man was too fragile to move in his current state, and he needed to be with the best medical equipment and knowledge accessible, and that was at Atlantis with Beckett.

The minutes ticked slowly away, while they watched the bleeping dot on the monitors getting closer and closer. The Deadalus was already in orbit around Atlantis, ready to launch an ambush if the Hive attacked. Elizabeth Weir joined him on the bridge, a stern look on her face that almost hid the nerves tingling under her skin. John knew her well enough by now to know that she was just as nervous as he was.

"I'm receiving a video feed!" Radek Zelenka reported with a surprised yelp from his workstation: "It's from the approaching Hive ship!"

"Maybe if we wait it out..." John suggested.

"The Hive is powering weapons!" Radek yelled, fingers flying over his computer tablet in lighting speed.

"It could be to lour us out," John whispered, then jumped when Radek's tablet exploded and sent the Czech flying backwards into a wall.

"I know you're out there," a voice boomed through the room.

"The Hive transmits via a subspace channel," Radek groaned as he scrambled to his feet.

"I wish you no harm, I only wish to speak with your leader in a orderly fashion!"

John and Elizabeth exchanged looks.

"Make sure this is untraceable, audio only from our side, and patch it through!" Elizabeth took a deep breath as the monitor in front of her flickered into life.

"Stargate Atlantis! Back from the dead, I presume?" A wraith appeared, with a wicked grin displayed to show his superiority.

"We're relocated. As you very well know the Atlantis was destroyed by your kind's latest attack," Weir answered him calmly: "We left a radio transmitter on the planet so that our allies would be able to reach us. It's untraceable, as I'm sure you understand."

"There's no need for this dance of deception, Commander Weir. I'm well aware of your location. I wish you no harm. I'm only here to collect something of mine."

"And what exactly would that be, Bjorn?!" Sheppard chimed in. The wraith raised eyebrows in something that might be surprise.

"Colonel Sheppard, I presume? Nice to hear from you again. I take it you and McKay are safely back with your kind?"

"McKay's dead. He didn't survive the trip back," John replied, voice heavy with spite.

"For some reason I don't believe you speak truthfully, Colonel," Bjorn replied with lazy contempt. "As I told you I only wish to retrieve what is rightfully mine. Give me McKay and I will leave Atlantis alone and never reveal your little secret to the other Hives." John switched the sound off.

"It's a rogue Hive," Sheppard whispered to Elizabeth: "you should give the Deadalus permission to launch an attack, and switch from cloak to shield!" Elizabeth nodded her agreement and gave the orders to Radek and Colonel Caldwell.

"And I should be heading over to the chair room," John continued.

"No. You know this... Bjorn character. I'm sending Beckett," Elizabeth decided.

"But Rodney..." John stressed.

"Rodney's stable at the moment. I'll relocate Keller to take care of him while Carson arms the chair. She's the second MD in this base, and head of the night shift."

"All right," John sighed, and switched the audio back on.

"You know I would rather kiss your mouth than handing McKay over to you, right," he replied to Bjorn who was waiting patiently at the other line. The wraith was standing still, looking into the screen with an almost distant look on his face. Then the image flickered for a brief second and he started talking again.

"So, I guess you are planning a strategic attack right about now?" Bjorn mused and scratched his nose knowingly. "It's no use, you know." John switched off the audio again, a tingling sensation at the back of his brain.

"The Hive's releasing darts into orbit!" Radek yelled.

"How about the shield?!" John barked.

"Seven minutes!" Radek answered, sweat poring down his face as he was working the calibrations as fast as he could.

"The Deadalus' approaching!" one of the operations operatives reported: "The Hive is charging weapons!"

"This is Beckett, I'm armed and ready!" Carson reported from the chair room: "Let's get this over with, I have an angry patient back at the infirmary!"

"You have a go, Carson!" Weir confirmed.

"Launching drones!" Carson yelled.

John Sheppard watched it all unfold in menacing speed, not quite able to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Rodney McKay's contractions were starting to pick up in intensity, and he was slowly starting to realise that there was really hard work ahead of him. He only wished he could put it on hold for a few hours so that he could deal with the situation up in the control room. He forced Carson to let him in on the information that went through the secure radio lines. Then Carson was ordered to the chair room, and Rodney knew they were in deep shit indeed.

"Keller's coming to stay with you, Rodney! I'll just go and kick some wraith ass and then I will be back in no time, long before the delivery!" Carson was pale as a corpse.

"What about Sheppard?! He's the military man, shouldn't he be in the chair?!" Rodney wailed, not at all eager to let his friend go.

"I'm sorry!" Carson whimpered and ran out of the room.

"All right, that does it!" Rodney growled and was just about to make a grand escape from the infirmary when Doctor Jennifer Keller ran into the room, out of breath and looking terrified.

"Hello, Mr. McKay! I'm Jennifer Keller. Good to meet you," she greeted, reaching out a trembling hand to greet her new patient. Rodney glared at her.

"I don't have time to be here right now, I need to be at the control bridge!" he barked, immediately taking advantage of the insecurity in the doctor's eyes.

"I don't think that's wise, Mr. McKay. Maybe I could teach you a few easy Lamaze techniques that might ease your contractions when you..."

"I'm doing this! I'm not sitting on my ass while Atlantis is under attack! I can embarrass my self by giving birth later, right now I have a city to save!" Rodney snapped and swung his feet over the bedside.

"No. Radek will do just fine," Keller told him in a high pitched voice. She grabbed hold of him and tried to pin him down.

"Let go of me, I can do this!" Rodney yelled as he clumsily tried to get out of bed.

"You're in labour, Mr. McKay, you should stay in bed!" Keller howled, a trace of panic running over her face.

"Women in China give birth right in the rice fields, pick up their babies and continue on with their work like it's any given Monday!" Rodney puffed as his feet hit the floor. But just to underline Keller's protests the next round of contractions came and made it very hard for him to stay on his feet.

"Ouch!" Rodney doubled over, hand clasping to his side as the pain shot trough his body. Breathing heavily he straightened up though, and started move his way, very ungracefully and slowly towards the door.

"Would someone... please bring my... tablet..." he growled. Keller sighed. She grabbed Rodney's tablet and fetched a wheelchair.

"If we're going to reach the control room sometime this evening I suggest I give you an escort..."

_____________________________________________________________________

As they went out from the transporter they could feel the first trembles going through the city.

"We're under attack," Rodney growled: "Pick up the speed, woman, my attention's needed in the control room, NOW!"

"Sure, bark at the woman dragging your heavy ass around!" Keller replied, her voice dripping sarcasm. Obviously it didn't take her long to come to dislike him like most others, Rodney thought to himself as he was already working on his tablet.

He approached the control room on screaming wheelchair tires and the entire operations crew stopped their work for a second looking at him, flabbergasted.

"Yes, pregnant man in labour coming through to save all your asses!" Rodney howled and had Keller wheel him over to Radek's station.

"I never thought I should say this, but good to see you," Radek told him as he swept to his side.

"Fine, good, off course. Now, status update!" Rodney ordered, and was briefed instantly by Zelenka, Weir and Sheppard.

"The Deadalus is attacking the Hive now and the it's responding, but it almost seems like it's firing blind," John reported.

"Carson's attacking both darts and the Hive ship to help the Deadalus achieve maximum impact," Weir added.

"And the Wraith video feed is still on, but the wraith is not responding to any of our questions," Radek pointed out.

"Something's not right here," Rodney growled.

"My thought's exactly John agreed. "There was something off on the video feed right before Bjorn answered my last question," he added, and then his brow arched: "But he didn't answer my question, now did he? He just told us what we were planning to do, it was like he never expected us to exchange McKay freely."

"How's that shield coming?" Weir interjected. Radek was forcefully shoved away by Rodney who took his chair.

"This is a mess!" he growled: "Six minutes, give or take!" he added and went to work, ignoring the insulted glare he received from Zelenka.

"Sheppard, continue to contact Bjorn," Weir ordered: "maybe we will be able to work out some kind of a deal with him."

"Not likely," Sheppard replied, but did as told.

"This is Atlantis, Bjorn- come in, over!" There was no answer.

"This is the Deadalus, the Hive seems to be firing at random, but we're taking massive hits!" Colonel Caldwell reported: "And the darts are making havoc on the city's outer regions!"

"Why are they attacking the outskirts of the city, it doesn't make any sense!" Sheppard pointed out, then he threw a look at Rodney who was working furiously at one of the work stations.

"They're here to pick up Rodney," he gaped: "they won't risk killing him! That's why they're attacking parts of the city it's unlikely where he's located!"

"But why go through all that when they know we won't hand him over freely?" Weir had a confused look on her face.

"I don't know, it doesn't make any sense..." Sheppard agreed.

"The Hive's changing course, it's heading for the city!" Radek yelled.

"How's that shield coming along McKay!" John barked.

"These are some immensely advanced mathematics I'm doing. It's not like I can flip a switch and..." Rodney stopped mid sentence, index finger in the air as he inhaled slowly.

"Radek..." he mumbled. Radek looked at him confused, then he heard the laboured breathing and finally understood what Rodney was implying.

"Oh, right!" He pushed Rodney's chair to the side and continued his work while Rodney was huffing his way through contractions.

"But if they don't expect us to give up McKay, and they won't destroy the city and risk killing him in the progress... why attack us at all?" Weir was still trying to put the pieces together.

"Wait a minute!" Sheppard got that peculiar face he got when he just had an idea. "Look at the video feed." He pointed at the monitor where Bjorn was still standing motionless, a smug look on his face.

"He's not been responding on any of our last calls for the last five minutes, why is that? And why is he just standing there?"

Rodney looked up to watch the monitors.

"Maybe it's another bate, something to take our attention away from the real threat," he pondered, then literally jumped in his chair.

"Did you see that?!" he yelled as the screen flickered for the briefest of moments.

"Yeah, it happens at regular intervals," John replied: "probably interference on the line."

"Then it wouldn't be happening at regular intervals now, would it!" Rodney pointed out, eyeing the Colonel. He threw himself at the workstation that was connected with the video feed.

"Christ, it's looping!" he moaned.

"What?!"

"This is a looped video feed!" Rodney repeated.

"Oh fuck..." John seemed to realize what was going on.

"Carson! Divert all energy towards the darts! Ignore the Hive, I repeat: ignore the Hive!" he yelled through the intercom.

"Aye!" Carson replied: "They're swarming all over, Colonel, better get some ground crew ready!"

"They're already on it," John replied and threw Weir a look: "and so am I. There's no one on that ship. They never wanted to destroy Atlantis, they're planning to invade it!"

Rodney's eyes grew wide.

"You're right!" he wheezed and promptly shoved Radek away.

"Move!"

"The Hive's about to approach orbit!" Colonel Caldwell reported: "Better get that shield up and working ASAP!"

"But why are they crashing their ship into us? It would destroy us on impact!"

"It's a test," Rodney growled: "a test to see if I'm a worthy guinea pig..."

"What?!"

"If I'm not able to raise this shield in time I'm not worth cloning now, am I!" he barked: "_Now_ can I have some peace and quiet?!"

From there on it all evolved in rapid speed. As Rodney was working frantically to raise the shield, Carson was launching all he had on the countless darts zooming over the city. Wraith were already reported beaming down in various parts of the city creating quite the stir as they were blasting their way through the corridors. The Marines were doing their best to keep them at bay, while Ronon and Teyla had teamed up with John to protect the chair room.

"They'll be beaming down, every single one of them. We need to start evacuating ground personnel," Weir decided.

"The shield's up!" Rodney yelled, just as the Hive ship appeared on the sky like a huge ball of fire. Second's later the entire city shook as the ship collided with the shield and evaporated above their heads.

"Thank god," Weir breathed, clasping her chest.

"That's only one bullet dodged," Rodney muttered: "it's now the real trouble begins..."

The darts were below the city shield, now protected from the Deadalus' guns. It all relied on Carson and the marines scattered around the city.

"I need some eyes and ears up there, my life signs detector just got blown to smithereens!" Sheppard yelled through the intercom.

"All right!" Rodney replied: "I see five life signs approaching the chair room!"

"You should be in bed!" Carson barked through the intercom.

"Actually, that would be a bad idea right now. It would be the first place the wraith would go after they take out the chair room," John chimed in.

Rodney was about to rub Carson's face in it when there was a scream from the gate room and the sound of stun blasts getting closer and closer.

"Wouldn't the control room be the first place for them to go if they knew we would need Rodney to get our shield back online in time?" Weir objected. As an answer to her remark Bjorn the wraith came blasting through one of the corridors with ten to fifteen of his wraith buddies at his heals, all heavily armed.

"Radek, get Rodney out of here!" Elizabeth yelled as she pulled her service gun. Rodney felt himself get hauled out of the office chair and dumped down into the wheelchair before he was wheeled out of the control room on screaming tires. Hot on their heals was Keller who looked like she was about to piss her pants, but determined to stay with her patient.

"You can't just extract me like that, my attention is needed at the bridge!" Rodney howled, but was overcome with a new wave of contractions.

"Sheppard, this is Zelenka! Control room has been compromised, I repeat: the control room has been compromised! I have McKay and Keller with me and we're heading down towards the transporter."

"What about Weir?" John asked.

"She stayed behind to delay the wraiths. The one you call Bjorn was with them."

"Shoot!" the frustration in John's voice was evident. "All right. Take the transporter down to the chair room, we'll wait for you there."

As they headed into the transporter Rodney was able to breathe again. He felt like a huge, white moving target as he was wheeled around like this, and extremely vulnerable. But there was no use in hiding in a room somewhere, as the control room probably had fallen into enemy hands by now they would soon discover the stationary life signs detector that was showing every life form on the base.

"Your contractions are about three and a half minutes apart now," Keller reported a worried frown on her face. "Soon you'll be entering the..."

"Third phase of stage one of labour and it will be painful, yes I've _heard_!" Rodney replied in a seething voice.

They were greeted by the gritty faces of Teyla, Ronon, John and Carson as the transporter door whooshed open, and all four pushed inside.

"What about the chair room?" Rodney asked as John settled by his side and set new coordinates for the transporter.

"All the darts has been shot down or have crashed into the city. By now all the wraiths have beamed down. We need to keep moving and get you to a secure location to ride the storm out."

"But the control room... The wraith will have full access to the gate, to earth!" Rodney stressed, crouching over in pain. It was almost comical how both Keller and Beckett immediately threw him helpless glares.

"Major Lorne and his team managed to fend off the attack, but Bjorn escaped. Weir was stunned, but is alive. Our mission right now is to keep you safe, while the rest of the marines round up the wraiths."

"I'm... just one... man," Rodney groaned: "you shouldn't... put Atlantis... at risk...for me..."

"We leave no man behind, Rodney!" John barked and got his P90 ready.

"In this case you wouldn't be leaving me behind, say it would be more like handing me over," Rodney grunted as he straightened his back. "Now does somebody have something I can aim at the attackers? I feel a little naked sitting here!"

"Take this," Carson offered and shoved a flashlight into his hand. "you would probably end up shooting someone in the back if I lent you a gun."

"Hardy harr haaarr!"

"All right, no arguing or I will have to get back there!" John growled: "Now pipe down while I go check if the coast is clear!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Five minutes later Rodney was panting through contractions while he was wheeled and the others running down the corridors with stun rays shooting past their ears.

"Quick! In here!" John barked and opened the door to an old research facility that had been shut down to preserve power months earlier. Radek wheeled Rodney inside while all those armed stayed behind to blast down the attackers at their heals. Keller was hovering over him like a bad rash as he struggled to catch his breath and he watched how Ronon was hit squarely in the chest and went down like a ton of bricks.

"No!" he panted, reaching out towards the people putting their lives on the line to protect him. Then there was an ear deafening explosion and Rodney yelled in terror as he saw his team-mates go flying backwards, hit by the shockwave. They crashed to the ground, not stirring, not getting up. John, Teyla and Carson.

"NOOO!" Rodney got to his feet and staggered towards the limp bodies.

"Hello there, Rodney McKay!"

Rodney turned to see Bjorn the wraith standing in the doorway, a stun gun in his hand. Keller immediately ran to his side, standing in front of him.

"What do you say, McKay? Do you want any more lives on your conscience?" Bjorn asked him smugly as he stepped inside. He walked past the body of Ronon, making sure his boots didn't touch the man.

"You have to get through me first!" Keller stood, bravely. Her entire body was shaking with fear, but she wouldn't leave her patient no matter what. Rodney grabbed her shoulders.

"No," he said. "This ends now." He moved the stunned doctor aside.

"I don't want any more blood on my hands," he muttered and stepped forwards.

"If I come quietly, will you leave Atlantis?"

"You have my word, McKay!" Bjorn's grin was terrifying, but the mock bow even more so. The wraith crossed the floor and stopped opposite Rodney where he held out his hand and touched the very reason he had come this long way. Rodney flinched.

"Ah, you're ripe!" he growled as he pushed towards Rodney's flesh and felt the strained skin beneath the fabric. "I've never seen the human birthing ritual before, this will be quite interesting!" Rodney closed his eyes as a fresh batch of contractions took hold of his body. His knees buckled beneath him and caught the wraith by surprise as he crashed towards the floor, landing hard on his hip.

"Stand up!" the wraith barked.

"I can't!" Rodney groaned, squirming in pain. Bjorn aimed the stun gun at him.

"Stand up!" he yelled. Once more Keller stepped forward, her tiny body shaking with anger.

"Don't you see he's in pain?!" Keller screamed: "He's in labour, he's hardly able to move at all!" Bjorn gave her a lazy look and shot her. Rodney watched in terror as the surprised look stayed on her face all the way down to the floor. Bjorn turned around and discovered Radek who was hiding behind the wheelchair.

"Lorne, this is Radek we're in level five, hiding in the..." The muffled sound of the stun gun echoed off the walls as Radek too fell to the floor. The wraith turned slowly and walked towards the spot where Rodney's ragged gasps stirred the dust off the floor.

"You humans are disappointingly frail," Bjorn grunted as he poked Rodney's stomach with the tip of his boot. "You break so easily it's amazing how well you've spread across the galaxy. With your brains and our bodies we would truly become invincible."

Bjorn crouched down and reached out his arm. Rodney saw the crease inside his palm and saw how the wraith struggled with incredible hunger.

"Go on then, end it," Rodney whispered.

"Oh no, you're coming with me," the wraith wheezed, as his hand grabbed Rodney's arm and forced him up to a sitting position.

"But your... ship ...is destroyed," Rodney panted as he struggled to keep in an upright position.

"That's why we're taking the first Stargate out of here!" the wraith growled and a low menacing chuckle made Rodney's skin crawl.

"So, for the last time," Bjorn said calmly: "get u…"

The next few seconds unfolded as in slow motion. Rodney was halfway up on his feet when it all happened so fast that it was all over before his fat ass thumped back down on the ground again. Bjorn's eyes widened in surprise as his chest exploded and he staggered back and forth a few steps before he fell, life gone from his eyes before he touched the ground. Rodney looked up, and saw Major Lorne standing in the doorway, lowering a dum dum loaded gun. Marines swarmed into the room and secured the perimeter, making sure the wraith was indeed dead and alone. Lorne went over to Rodney, the only person still stirring in the room.

"The base is secure, this was the last one," he told him calmly. He saw the fear in Rodney's eyes and touched his arm.

"Hey, you're safe now, we all are."

"Yeah, but... at what... cost," Rodney muttered.

"The wraith used stun guns. As you know they prefer to kill their pray later in a feeding frenzy. So far there's not been reported any casualties."

"But..." Rodney started, but couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"They're alive!" A voice shouted. "They're wounded, but they're all breathing!"

Rodney McKay drew a shuddering breath.


	16. Gracefully Scared

**Chapter 16 Gracefully Scared**

The infirmary was a chaos of sounds and voices. Both Beckett and Keller were knocked out and therefore unable to lead their teams of medical personnel. A few nurses ran around stacking stun victims like they were pancakes to make room for the hardest injured. Carson, Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon had all been hit by the explosive device Bjorn had used to clear way into the research facility where his prized possession was kept, and no one really knew how severe the damages were.

Rodney had been shoved down in a bed, and left there for the time being. He was watching the nurses tend to his friends while he was trying to fight the urge to scream. In the bed next to him Carson suddenly stirred and opened his eyes.

"Where... am... I.." he moaned and was attacked by the world's clumsiest hug as Rodney arched out of bed mid contraction and brought his entire body weight on top of the barely conscious doctor.

"Can't breathe... Rodney," Carson wheezed and patted his back feebly.

"Don't you... ever do... something brave... like that... again!" Rodney barked breathlessly, misty eyed and overjoyed.

"I was just standing in the doorway. John and Ronon were blocking my way inside. My real plan was to hide cowardly behind you." A tired smile spread over Carson's face as he touched Rodney's chest with a trembling index finger.

"Now get back in bed and stay there, or else I will have to tie you down!" he exhaled.

Rodney happily obeyed, although with some difficulty. Carson on the other hand was having no more bed rest as he got out of bed and started to organize the staff that were still running around like bewildered chickens.

Ten minutes later he came back to Rodney who was red faced and huffing.

"I'll have Moira here," a blonde nurse sped to his side: "hook you back up on the EFM and see how you and the baby are doing. She's had some training as a midwife back on earth. She'll notify me the second I'm needed, but right now I need to be with Ronon. He has a collapsed lunge and possible inner injuries so I need to take him to surgery right away."

Rodney nodded his approval and Carson was whisked away, changing into surgery scrubs as he followed Ronon's bed across the room and over to the surgery.

Teyla and John had both suffered minor concussions but were otherwise unharmed except some bruising and small gashes, and the thirty or so stun victims started to wake up in an orderly fashion. Jennifer Keller followed Carson's example and went straight back to work, and Radek Zelenka hurried over to the control room to start the work on lowering the shield and getting the cloak back online just in case other Hives out there would decide to check out why a fellow Hive ship suddenly disappeared in the middle of nowhere. It was amazing to watch how quickly people picked themselves back up from the latest ordeal and went back to their lives.

Rodney wished with all his heart he could join them, but was slowly realising life would never be the same for him.

After a while he was moved back to his old quarters in the infirmary as Moira decided he needed some privacy.

"Please... tell me if you... hear anything ... about Ronon," he panted and received a stern nod before she headed out the door, leaving Rodney once more with the annoying bleepety bleep from the EFM.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

He awoke abruptly to what had to be the hardest set of contractions yet. Rodney bolted as the pain shot through him, feeling a pressure grow from the midst of his stomach and pushing up towards his chest and throat.

"You have got to be kidding me!" he thought to himself, as his head bobbed slowly from side to side, trying to ease the nausea that was building inside him. The concept of childbirth was entirely different from what he had imagined, and now the pain felt never-ending as the contractions came closer and closer together and lasted longer and longer. Still he managed to fall asleep between some of them and was blessed with three minutes of rest before the shit hit the fan again, and again and again.

He hoped Carson finished with surgery soon, it was time to discuss some serious pain relief!

Moments later he rolled meekly to his side and threw up, body shaking in tired tremors as the meagre contents of his stomach splattered to the floor beneath him. He threw a tired glare at the clock on the wall that showed 11.35 PM, Atlantean time. This was going to be a veery long night...

Carson found him an hour later, head bobbing from side to side and groaning loudly. When he noticed Carson had entered the room his eyes grew vivid.

"How's... Ronon..." he heaved as he struggled to sit up to a more comfortable position.

"He's out of the woods," Carson replied, with a tired but grateful smile on his lips. He went over to Rodney and sat down by his side.

"How are you holding up then?" he asked, throwing a look up on the monitor.

"I see your contractions are getting pretty feisty..."

"Give me drugs!!!" Rodney snapped, locking a deadly hold on Carson's collar before he had the chance to slip away. Carson gave him a grave look.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Rodney. Drugs might reduce your contractions, even stop them completely and you really don't want that."

"No contractions? As in NO PAIN?! Hell yeah, bring it on!" Rodney resembled a big, red overcooked lobster.

"As you know the cervix has fused with the wall of your.."

"_Rectum_, yes I've **HEARD**!" Rodney finished for him, flustered. He was in total agony. How could Carson do this to him? Every minute spent in this state made him wish for Radek's tablet on the back of his head. Carson looked like he was steeling himself for what he had to say.

"The labour completely shuts down your colon and rectum's normal functions. That means your bowels have no output for the time being, and that the only thing getting through that channel in this state is the baby. If you stay like this for too long..."

"So... you're telling me I'm constipated?!" Rodney asked incredulously.

"If you stay like this for too long your bowels may be severely infected and damaged, it's even possible you'll never regain full use of them."

"Well you emptied me several hours ago, remember? We had such fun with the rectum tube!" Rodney snarled, his lower lip sticking out in contempt.

"Yes, but this shutdown still adds a considerable strain to your bowels."

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Why couldn't these Melonians just have grown me a bloody vagina when they were at it?!"

"Listen, as of now I can offer you two methods that might grant you some pain relief." Carson offered.

"I take both!"

"Maybe you want to hear what the options are first?!"

"I have stuff tearing downstairs, you could hit me with a shovel right now and I would appreciate it!" Rodney grunted and doubled over as new contractions set in to make his life a living misery.

"All right, Rodney. Let's try some Nitrous Oxide and see if that can help take the edge off the contractions, OK?" Carson told him as he wiped Rodney's brow with a cold cloth.

"NNnnnghh... Laughing… gas..? Isn't that... something... dentists… use..?" Rodney groaned.

"Sure, but it's sometimes used by pregnant women during childbirth as well. It helps you relax through the contractions."

"I'm... lying down... aren't I..!" it spat sarcastically.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Five minutes later a nurse was hooking up an Oxygen tank and the tank of Nitrous Oxide, while Carson was checking the pressure on both containers. Rodney yanked the nosepiece out of his hands and strapped it on with greedy need, desperate for some instant release.

"Hit me!" he ordered.

"Breathe deeply and evenly, don't suck it down!" Carson instructed as Rodney took a few deep and rapid inhales.

Actual tears of disappointment appeared in Rodney's eyes seconds later as the gas was put to the test.

"It hurts Carson... it still hurts!" he whimpered, not finding the gas helping the least.

"I know Rodney..." Carson had a pained expression on his face: "Give it some time, it takes a few moments before the gas reaches its full effect."

"I don't... know... how much... more..." he started but the sentence ended in a chuckle.

"What's... happening?" Rodney giggled and started touching and pinching his cheeks.

"This... isn't funny... at all!" But he wasn't able to control the laughter that trickled through his body. It was still painful as hell, but... amusing as hell too somehow...

"It's laughing gas, remember?" Carson murmured and patted Rodney's sweaty hair: "It's supposed to make you relax, and what's more relaxing than a good laugh?"

"Hee hee!" Rodney giggled, a goofy smile plastered all over his face.

"I think somebody's in a good mood!" it boomed cheerily from the doorway, where Colonel John Sheppard was taking in the view of a chuckling scientist and an exhausted doctor.

"Aye," Carson agreed, a tired smile forming on his face. "I think I'll have some myself he added," and gestured towards the beholders standing by the bed.

"Sheppard!" Rodney beamed, sweat poring down his face and throat: "My stomach hurts, it's like it's on fire!" He laughed like a madman at his own remark.

"We should keep him hooked up on that stuff all the time," John smirked: "Then he would be in a good mood even when he's grouchy!"

"Heee!" Rodney sniggered, head bobbing back and forth as a daft smile gave him a look of innocence no grown man should be able to pull off.

"The effect wears off after a while," Carson sighed. "It's good for a temporary relief, but not much more than that. Not unless I heighten the doze."

"Then do that!" Rodney waved a finger triumphantly in the air.

"Then we're back to the problem with your bowels..." Rodney easily ignored the comment and turned his attention towards the guest hovering in the doorway.

"Come... sit down... Johnnyboy!" Rodney cheered: "I look like... a robot. See?" He turned from his side to his back so John could have a better view.

"Yes... Cool belts you've got going there, Rodney," John agreed and sat down by the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

"Hurts... but... can't... stop... laughing… even when it's not... funny!" Rodney chuckled, tears of amusement running down his cheeks.

"You know you can stop the laughing by pulling out the nosepiece, right?" Carson asked him a little concerned.

"I'm an ... astro... astro... astrophysi…cist for Christ ... sake, of course I... know!"

"Just checking." Carson patted his hand. The ever twisting curve on the monitor above their heads skidded downwards and flattened out, and as on command Rodney's head bobbed to the side and he was asleep.

"That was quick!" John noted with raised eyebrows: "How long until he..." John gestured towards Rodney's stomach.

"Hard to say... He's six centimetres dilated, he needs to be at ten before... the last stretch."

John nodded, looking down on his hands.

"I wish there was something I could do for him..."

"As do I," Carson sighed, rubbing gritty eyes.

"You look dog tired, Carson. Why don't you go lay down for a while. I can sit with him," John offered, placing an arm on the doctor's shoulder.

"Thank you, maybe I'll do that. I'll ask Moira to keep an eye on his readings for me while I'm off." Carson got to weary feet, throwing the sleeping Rodney a caring glance.

"He'll wake up in about a minute, there's a good chance he'll throw up. There's a fresh bedpan by the bed there."

"All right, Carson. Now go get some rest. I'll call you if something happens."

"Thanks." Carson trotted out of the room, already half asleep.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

John Sheppard had seen a lot of scary shit in his days, but nothing could top this. No, scratch that... Nothing would be able to top what was about to happen to Rodney McKay. He watched helplessly as the scientist writhed in pain, unable to do much more than wiping his brow with a wet rag and offer him sips of cold water.

At first Rodney was close to hysteria when he discovered that Carson was gone, but calmed down when John explained that he was sitting in while the doctor got some much needed rest. He had after all had a pretty rough day, as had they all in Atlantis, being invaded with rogue wraiths and what not. John easily ignored the scowl Rodney handed him when told about everybody's supposed suffering. They had nothing on Rodney's day of misery, John would grant him that.

They soon grew into some sort of routine, with Rodney laughing and swearing his way through contractions until he was so worn out he was gasping for air and bawling his eyes out together with feeble chuckles. Then he would drift into approximately two minutes of sleep between contractions and then wake up only to throw up what little sips of water he'd managed to drink since the last power nap.

Slowly the effect of the Nitrous Oxide was starting to wear off, and the contractions were coming at closer and closer intervals, lasting about one and a half minute each time. Rodney was squirming back and forth on the bed, from his side to his back, desperate to find a more relaxed position but unable to do so.

"I think... it's time for... solution number two, if there still is one," Rodney gasped as his head fell meekly towards the pillow after another set of contractions. "The Nitrous isn't cutting it no more."

John watched the tired man sprawled out in the bed before him. Soft grey eyes gazed back at him with a rare grace, and a tiny smile managed to fight its way to his lips. How was he able to do that? How was he able to accept all of this and not go insane by the mere thought of what was coming?!

"Crazy, huh?" Rodney murmured, utilising what little strength he had left to place a hand on his stomach, above the two monitor belts. "I bet this isn't what you signed on for... back on earth."

"Not in a million years!" John admitted fondly, as he watched Rodney's hand.

"And you neither, I suspect," he added. Rodney looked down at the spot where his hand was touching naked skin.

"Nope... I had my hopes set on a Nobel Prize, actually. But being pregnant and giving birth to my own clone was second on my list..."

John couldn't help it, the comment made him laugh. The laughter proved contagious though, and moments later Rodney was laughing too, without the aid of laughing gas this time.

"OOhf, stop it, don't make me laugh," he moaned between chuckles: "it makes my belly... huuurt!" That only made them both laugh harder, until of course the next round of contractions came and ruined both their moods.

Moira the nurse came by to check on Rodney's readings and she hurried out of the room with a frown on her brow Rodney certainly noticed.

"What... was that?!" he wheezed as he holstered himself up to his elbows, hair strutting in every direction as sweat was poring down his face.

"She saw... something! I'm... dying… aren't I..!" At least Rodney hadn't lost his old sense of hypochondria…

"Relax, Rodney. I'm sure she's instructed to monitor your readings at regular intervals," John calmed. Just as he'd said that Jennifer Keller rushed into the room and completely ruined the words' calming effect.

"Oh my god!" Rodney panted, eyes wild as he watched the female doctor snap on rubber gloves.

"What... are... you..."

"Relax, Rodney. I'm just going to check your progress internally," Keller told him calmly. "I need to remove your pants and move your legs up in the on the stirrups," she instructed.

"No! I want Carson!" Rodney howled, crawling backwards in the bed as far as he was able to get while nine months pregnant and in labour...

"I'm quite qualified to handle the situation while Dr. Beckett is sleeping," Keller told him with a stuck up little smile. "I need to make sure that the cervix is dilating sufficiently..."

"Uhm... I guess this is my queue to leave?" John mumbled and started arching towards the door. One thing was sitting by Rodney's bedside like this, but when the scientist's downstairs plumbing and rubber gloves suddenly were involved he wasn't all that round up on being a spectator.

But just as he was about to slip quietly out into the night a firm grip snapped around his arm.

"Oh, no you don't!" Rodney snarled, eyes vivid with determination as he dragged the Colonel back to his seat. "If I have to suffer through this, you'll keep me company!"

"You can turn your back if you want," Keller offered John sweetly: "and I want you to change into hospital robes, Mr. McKay. That way we will have easier access... down there as this progress."

"Wouldn't that let a draft up there?" Rodney muttered glaring at the doctor with poorly hidden loathe.

"Why the hell did I decide to put my stupid, giant head through the door to say hello?!" John thought, mentally kicking himself.

John was granted the job of helping Rodney change into a one piece hospital robe, the kind that was tied in the back, while Keller was preparing a device that looked suspiciously like an oversized dildo hooked up to a monitor.

"Where exactly are you going to stick that..?" John heard himself ask.

"This is an internal Ultrasound probe," Keller explained: "Take a guess..."

Rodney swallowed heavily.

"Relax. It's just the tip that goes in," the Doctor elaborated as she helped or more like forced a very hesitant Rodney to arch forwards to the end of the bed and prop his legs up in Carson's homemade leg supporting device. It was basically scrap metal from an old OB chair, a portable device including a foot rest and thigh support for each leg to... ease the access to what might linger in between.

Both Rodney and John got very busy studying the ceiling as Keller adjusted the probe and instructed the labouring to relax and breathe evenly.

"This will be a bit uncomfortable, but it's necessary to see how far you're dilated."

"Kill me, kill me now!" John muttered to himself, throwing a glance at Rodney who's bright purple face was wrinkling up as his breathing fastened into a new set of contractions.

"No... stop... Pull it... out..!" he panted, squirming in unease.

"Work with the contractions, McKay," Keller soothed: "It'll only take a minute."

"Pressure... Hurts..."

John silently wished he'd been hit harder by the explosion earlier that evening. He felt utterly helpless, watching Rodney bite back tears as Keller was slowly extracting the probe.

"And now I will have to do a physical to check, the status of the cervix," Keller told both men calmly. "You will feel a slight pressure..."

"No, wait!" Rodney squealed. "Carson should be back... any second... Can't it wait?"

"No, I'm sorry. Mr. McKay. You're at nine centimetres dilation. I need to make sure the fuse between your cervix and lower colon will be sufficient through extraction of the foetus."

"Why... would I... let you... do... this?!" Rodney breathed.

"Because my hands are smaller than Doctor Beckett's..."

John couldn't help but adore the seething irony in Dr. Keller's voice. He had a sneaking suspicion she wasn't too impressed by her patient's blatant distrust to her medical skills.

"Listen, try to lean back and relax, let her do her job, Rodney," John told him and patted Rodney's arm. Rodney answered with locking a death grip on John's index finger.

"_You relax!_" he grunted, eyes peering like a fish on land.

"You had me at relax," John smirked.

As the doctor was about to extract her hand there suddenly was the sound of gushing fluids splattering towards the floor.

"Oh shoot!" Dr. Keller squealed and jumped backwards, away from the source of the flood.

"Peewww!" John gagged: "Why have this room turned into a swimming pool?!" He turned to look at Jennifer Keller who was soaked, from head to toe.

"Congratulations, Mr. McKay," she gurgled, spitting and harking foetal fluids, while she was hopping around shaking her drenched clothes: "your water just broke."

"Now that's just nasty!" John moaned, earning a deadly glare from the mother to be.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Carson Beckett was blessed with three and a half hours of dreamless sleep before he was called back to the infirmary with the notice at Rodney was nine centimetres dilated and that he'd caused a small flood in the infirmary as his water broke. Jennifer Keller looked like a drenched alley cat, even her hair was soaked.

"The foetal fluid was clear and odourless," she reported dryly: "Good luck, he's exhausted and grumpy."

"I deal with the grumpy part every day, and the exhausted part every time we're on off world," Carson replied. "He's been stuck in the Transition phase unusually long though, I hope the Second Stage will go more smoothly..."

"How can we even tell what's unusual in a pregnancy like this?" Keller asked, dripping foetal fluids on Carson's carpet.

"Valid point," Carson sighed: "thanks for the help. I'll page you if I need your help. Try to get some rest, OK?"

"All right, doctor," Jennifer murmured, patting his shoulders as they both left Carson's office.

Back in the infirmary he was greeted with the shell-shocked glare of John Sheppard and the view of a moaning Rodney McKay who was drenched in sweat and frustration.

"I can't... take... it any... longer..." he panted: "Yank this... thing out of... me, or... I will... I will..." He turned his head meekly away, consumed with pain and fatigue. Carson's stomach rolled with compassion and sympathy.

"You're almost there, Rodney. Just hang in there," he soothed, knowing it was like trying to mend a deep gash with a simple band aid.

"No... don't... say... that!" he groaned. "I'll... come back... tomorrow... We can... finish this... then..."

"We need painkillers, Doc. Lot's of them!" Sheppard reported, showing a bruised hand for evidence.

"You can have some, Rodney has to do without I'm afraid," Carson replied.

"But... you told me... there was a second... option to the... laughing gas" Rodney protested feebly.

Damn geniuses and their tendency to remember everything you'd ever said to them...

"That's right. I was thinking about pain relief through water," Carson admitted. "But I'm not sure if throwing you into a pool is the best thing to do right now. You're nine centimetres dilated, when you reach ten it's show time. We might have to do the delivery in the water... And since this is a unique birth to say the least I would be more comfortable having you in an environment I can control." He watched Rodney's head hit the pillow as the latest set of contractions wore off.

"I don't care," he grunted: "if you want me to even get there... I suggest you take me to Mermaid land!"

"With a swimsuit!" John added. Carson couldn't help but smile at the Colonel. He tried to make it perfectly clear he didn't want to be here, with everything he said and did, but still he stayed by Rodney's side in some sort of terrified urge to protect his team-mate.

Carson felt torn between his own need to feel safe and secure and the need to offer Rodney any kind of pain release he could possibly offer. He seriously doubted water would do much either way so far out into the labour, but then again if it gave Rodney the smallest glimmer of hope that he could pull through this...

"All right, I'll have Moira get the infirmary pool ready. But the second you reach ten centimetres I'll yank you out of there, Ariel!" he decided. Rodney's eyes beamed of pure gratefulness.

Fifteen minutes later John and Carson were helping Rodney over in a wheelchair, after Carson had confirmed that Rodney was still stuck at the pesky "nine". He didn't like the way this was going at all. Normally the transition face in a delivery would last two to three hours, Rodney was logging his fifth hour and Carson was pretty certain Rodney's contractions would need another couple of hours to evolve into the second stage of labour.

"Why is it so damn important to reach this "magic ten"?" John whispered as they where wheeling Rodney through the corridors: "Why don't settle for "nine" and add some pressure to his stomach and... you know: squeeze the kid out?"

"Thanks for that wonderful display of words, Sheppard!" Rodney snarled. There was nothing wrong with the man's hearing...

"Believe me, the passage is narrow enough as it is," Carson mumbled: "and besides, the contractions that help push the baby out doesn't appear before the expectant parent is properly dilated."

"Do you mind?!" It snapped from the expectant.


	17. Stop The World

**Chapter 17**** Stop The World**

Rodney was taking in the view of what was either to be determined as a small swimming pool or a gigantic black bathtub, made by the ancient for health promoting reasons. It could have been the centre piece in the bathroom of a posh bachelor pad, complete with a tiny water fall cascading down from the ceiling. To make it even more hilarious Moira, the nurse, had lit up about seven hundred candles around the room for "calming and soothing" effect.

"Wow!" John gaped: "Who knew you had the "Playboy Grotto" transported out here, Carson! Heff must be pretty peeved," he added with a snigger.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Rodney moaned, feeling utterly disgusted by the display of lush and intimate luxury. Somehow it didn't fit his mood.

"What?! You would rather be stuck in one of the fishbowls down at the fifteenth level?"

"It looks like the foreplay to a bad porn movie!" Rodney grunted and gritted his teeth as he was caught up with contractions. He found them even peskier when sitting, and had to bite his lip not to start moaning like a French whore. Although it would fit the setting, he thought to himself in bitter irony. He heard Carson snap at the nurse for overdoing it with the "calming remedies" and watched Sheppard hover in the doorway, looking for an excuse to escape. And who wouldn't. Rodney was about to be stripped down to his skin and hoisted into a gigantic lava rock, hollowed out to become some sort of spa resort for the Ancients. Steam was lingering on top of the water like a thin coat of fog and gave Rodney the smallest glimpse of hope that it would cloak whatever hiding underneath it.

It was four o' clock in the morning and he'd been up for 22 hours straight, not counting the two minutes emergency naps he was graced with now and then when he was completely drained. He was amazed of the force and violence these contractions brought on his body, and he felt his self confidence crumble like chocolate chip cookies every time a new sort of pain proved his theory of maximum pain wrong.

Rodney was hoisted into the pool most ungracefully and ended up belly down, hanging on to the edge while baring white ass cheeks like small mountaintops in a morning mist.

"Look, Twin Peaks!" John sniggered, and Rodney could hear the slap Carson added to his forehead, even with his good ear submerged in water. Finally he was helped to turn around, and to find some comfort for his back on the curved end of the "Heff Playboy Tub". He was able to rest his head quite comfortably as well and found the temperature of the water relaxing. He fell asleep instantly, waking moments later as he was taking in water through his nose.

"I guess you should be assisting lifeguard," Carson suggested towards John who found himself a nice spot where he had easy access to dragging heads of astrophysicists out of water in case of such dozing off. Carson had of course brought about a ton of equipment with him to monitor the baby' and Rodney's various life signs and made threats about jumping into the pool if the delivery suddenly accelerated in such fashion that they would be unable to get back to the infirmary in time.

As exposed as Rodney felt, fumbling weakly around in a pool completely naked, he still felt more relaxed and secure here than he'd been in the sterile hospital room. The soft lights and the warm water was draping him like a warm blanket and made him feel less on show compared to being sprawled out in a hospital bed that sported the remnants of an old OB chair.

He was eager to experience the effect the water would have on his contractions and found himself moaning with disappointment seconds later when pain shot through his body just as merciless as it had moments before.

"This is... not… working..." he gasped, baring down towards his chest when a particularly pesky contraction soared through his lower back.

"It'll help you relax more during your breaks," Carson told him calmly as he checked the baby's heartbeat. "The baby's doing fine, it responds well to the new environment."

"It's still... inside..!" Rodney spat, pointing towards his gut.

"Sure, but he can feel the warmth of the water, the effect of your muscles relaxing around it, sounds and light are reflected differently.." Carson's voice trailed off.

He spent the next hour or so like a beached whale, shifting positions now and then to work with the contractions. He found resting his knees to the bottom of the pool when leaning towards the edge to rest his head on his arms to be one of the best positions to gather strength between the never-ending rounds of soaring pain. John was staying blissfully alert and ready to drag his head up from the water whenever he passed out from exhaustion.

By six o clock in the morning he noted that Carson was growing restless. He was checking Rodney's status down below with increasing intervals, a frown growing between his eyes.

"You should be progressing faster than this," he mumbled, more to himself than to Rodney how was slumbering lightly between contractions.

"I think it's time we move you back to the infirmary. I need to be ready if this doesn't evolve the way we need."

____________________________________________________________________

He wasn't prepared to see Rodney's face dissolve into tears, see his mouth sag with despair as John and himself was helping him out of the water. He was shivering lightly while Carson rubbed him dry with towels and helped him redress in the hospital gown, and he kept his gaze down all the way back to the infirmary.

"I need to speak with my sister," he whispered moments after he was put back in bed. "I have something I need to ask her." Carson couldn't help but shudder at the plea in the man's eyes. Desperate and begging, lacking the old resilience that normally lit up his face.

"I don't know if I'll be able to..." Carson started, but John cut him off.

"Of course, Rodney. I'll get working on that ASAP!" Carson watched John storm out the door as if he was about to fetch the president himself within seconds. Carson sat down by Rodney's side and grabbed his hand.

"You're almost there," he urged him, rubbing his hand softly. "Just a little bit longer." Rodney looked at him, with that far away gaze dying patients got sometimes and smiled.

"Sure, Carson," he breathed, looking at him with complete trust.

"You don't mind... if I take... a nap first?"

"Actually..." Carson started as he threw his gaze up towards the monitors, and his eyes grew moist with silent gratitude: "...I think you've been granted your wish."

The contractions had stopped, a sign of stalled labour or the pause that sometimes appeared between the transition phase and the second stage of labour.

"Sometimes an expectant mother is granted an hour of so without contractions after the cervix is completely dilated. I call it the "rest and be thankful" phase," Carson murmured and stroke Rodney's hair.

Rodney's eyes glazed over and he fell asleep.

A quick physical while Rodney was sleeping confirmed what Carson had hoped. Rodney was finally ready for the last leg. He watched the sleeping man and more than anything he wanted to lean down and kiss his brow. A dull ache in his heart reminded him that their relationship would never evolve to anything beyond friendship, and he had to steel himself once more and decide it was enough for him.

He made contact with John Sheppard over the intercom to hear how he was coming along with the near to impossible video conversation he had promised Rodney, and was surprised to learn that Radek was establishing contact with Rodney's sister as they spoke. A team had been sent to Jeannie's house to establish a video feed from her house that would go through the relay tower at SG1, and out to Atlantis through the Stargate. Carson hoped with all might that they would be able to reach her in time, and that Rodney would be able to ask her what was apparently very important to him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

About an hour later Rodney awoke with a grunt. It was time to get to work! His entire body trembled with anticipation as a new urge awoke in his body with a roar, the urge to push. He bore down towards his chest, raw instinct telling him what to do and did what billions of women had done before him and not a single man.

"This is insane!" he thought to himself as the tension left his body a few minutes later. He realized Carson had been coaxing him through the contractions and he was now urging him to catch his breath until the next set came around.

"Welcome to the second stage of labour!" he told him, a sweet smile almost hiding Carson's obvious fear of complications. "Listen to your body, it tells you what to do from now on."

"My sister," Rodney asked him silently: "has John..."

"What John promises, John keeps!" it cheered from the doorway where John Sheppard was stomping inside with a computer tablet in his hands. "They're patching her through as we speak," he told him as he helped Carson to prop Rodney up into a sitting position. He handed Rodney the tablet with honest consideration in his voice:

"Good luck, Rodney!"

His palms went damp in a second as Jeannie's face popped up on the screen. She looked as beautiful as always, those happy eyes of hers lighting her entire face up together with that childlike smile.

"Rodney?" her eyes were searching, but she couldn't find what she was looking for.

"Oh, forgot to press the button," John suddenly realized and pushed the button activating the webcam. Her face lit up in recognition.

"There you are!" she waved into the camera, then squinted her eyes. "God, you look awful!" she blurted out.

"Yeah, labour's a bitch," Rodney replied softly. "It's good to see your face Jeannie." He watched Jeannie study his features with a worried frown.

"I had to talk to you before..." The next set of contractions set in and Jeannie was left a helpless witness to Rodney's struggle.

"Rodney!" she whimpered, as all remnants of resentment evaporated from her eyes. Rodney tried to keep eye contact although his tongue was tied for the time being. Her hand was touching the screen, and made her look like she was trying to reach through the glass. She turned her head and yelled something to somebody behind her and he wasn't able to read the muffled reply. The urge to push ceased once more and Rodney let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a second before his full attention was brought back to the one on the other side of the screen.

"I need to ask you something," he told her.

"What is it, Rodney?" she asked as she was wiping wet cheeks.

"Jeannie... If I don't make it..."

"Don't talk like that!" Jeannie ordered in a thick voice: "You're the only family I have left!"

"Listen," Rodney breathed: "if I don't make it, would you... would you and Caleb..." he swallowed.

"Would you and Caleb take care of...him... My son, I mean?"

"Oh, Rodney," Jeannie bawled, mascara now rushing down her face: "of course we would!"

"Good." Rodney closed his eyes, his heart feeling lighter than it had for days.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"You hang in there, you hear!" Jeannie ordered. "I'm coming to you, hold on!" He placed his hand on the screen as his eyes betrayed him and showed the raw fear he was trying to lock deep down in his mind.

"I'm afraid, Jeannie," he whimpered: "I don't know how to..." he was cut off. Brutal force soared through his body and set him on fire. He dropped the tablet, needing something entirely different to hold on to, flesh and bones. He grabbed Carson's hand and held on for dear life while the sounds of his terrified sister was echoing through the back of his head. John picked up the tablet and went out of the room with it as he was talking to Jeannie, trying to calm her down.

The little one would grow up in a caring and loving family, a family that would keep him safe and give him all the love a child could need.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Always trust a mother's instinct. It was the one thing they had imprinted into his brain in medical school that had stuck with him his entire career. And here he was at what had to be his biggest challenge yet, delivering a baby about to be born by a man. Always trust a mother's instinct. Carson wondered if his old tenet should apply in this situation.

John helped Rodney settle in a more comfortable position that would make gravity hopefully speed up the delivery. Rodney was lost to the world while in contractions; it was like primal instincts he shouldn't possess took a hold over his body and told him what to do.

Carson was monitoring it all with a feeling of helpless dread. Rodney's heartbeat and blood pressure were spiking, as were the levels indicating pain. The baby had just started the journey that would lead it out of the artificial womb that had been his home the last nine months, and was doing fine for now. Carson only hoped the Melonian's organic welding would hold when it was really put to the test. If the fuse ruptured now Rodney might bleed to death, or at the very least risk a serious infection that might cost him the normal use of his bowels for the rest of his life.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Jeannie's coming," John told Rodney while he was between contractions. "She wants to say hello to Mini-you when he greets us with his presence. Who'd believe he would be so much alike you already? Always dragging it out," he added, with a hollow smirk. His eyes met Carson's for a split second and they mirrored the worry so openly portrayed in Carson's.

The entire Atlantis medical stab was on emergency standby, holding their breath as they waited. Jennifer Keller kept the surgery on high alert, ready to operate on Rodney on a moment's notice, and even an old incubator had been rigged up and prepared. The sounds of Rodney's struggled breathing and pain induced groans were bouncing off the walls, making the bystanders hunch their backs in terrified sympathy.

"You're doing great, Rodney. The baby is moving along."

"Frikkin... hurts... Carson!" Rodney's ragged breath was torture to his soul. Every groan and moan sent daggers of despair trough him as he watched how the contractions drained Rodney of what little strength he had left.

It was a peculiar sensation, starting to feel somewhat in control of his body again, when he in all fairness had been dragged along without any say in the matter from the very start. But he was finally able to participate in some way, no longer standing on the outside like a curious bystander. He was part of the act now, he had something to contribute. He followed his body's instructions and pushed when the urge came. It hurt like bloody hell, but at least it was a pain that told him something was happening.

The aches and pains were something entirely different in this stage of the game. It felt like he had been set on fire from the waist down, something pulling at every ligament from his back to his pelvis every time he bore down and pushed towards what felt like the world's biggest constipation.

Carson was stroking his back and murmured tender words of consideration and encouragement to keep his spirits up. Rodney, on the other hand, felt like shoving his buddy's head under water to make him shut up. He was told to expect anything from twenty minutes to four hours in this state until it was all over, but Rodney didn't quite frankly know if he could last that long. So what if he had some lousy four minutes of rest between each contraction, he was famished!

"All right, turn around, Rodney. Time to see how the baby's doing," Carson told him and helped him turn belly up again. He rested his back and head towards the semi propped up bed, panting heavily while the room was spinning around him.

"Baby's doing fine, aaaand daddy's... working." He opened his eyes to find Carson studying him.

"Up for talking a walk?" he asked. Rodney graced his question with a stern glare.

"Do I look like I'm up for a walk?!"

"It might speed things up. Besides, it's about time you take a trip to the little boy's room again. How long's it been since you urinated, five hours?"

"He probably went during bath time," John replied and ducked as an empty glass was hurled in his particular direction.

"You should get up and stretch your legs a little, it would do you good," Carson continued.

"You're really trying to kill me, aren't you?!" Rodney sputtered as he was dragged out of bed. John supported his weight and had the good grace not to moan too loudly about it.

How he made it to the toilet he had no idea. He suspected John and Carson more dragged him than walked alongside him though, because he was so knackered that he didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other any more. After arguing feebly with Carson he finally agreed to pee sitting down. Not that he had been able to pee standing up for months anyways, but they didn't need to know that... It felt weird taking a piss, when what he really felt for was taking a dump... He peered down on white fabric.

"Time to come out, junior," he grunted.

There was a little him in there. An exact replica of Rodney McKay. Now how freaking terrifying was that! The same body, the same mind... The same preconditions to become an irritating, abrasive, intelligent but socially inept individual.

He was actually bringing himself to the world in some crazy twilight zone kind of way.

"How are you doing in there Rodney?" Carson yelled from the outside.

"Almost finished," Rodney answered him absentmindedly.

"You're me," he mumbled, fingers trailing over the taut flesh as the contractions started to flare up again. He closed his eyes and placed his hands to the walls of the bathroom stall to steady him through the rhythmic grinding of his guts and nether regions.

"Rodney!" Carson was growing worried on the outside.

"I'mh…fine... Con..tract..ions!" Rodney growled as he bore down. Carson let him work out this round for himself and didn't open the door to help him outside until he was told him it was ok. Rodney was grateful for that small favour. He had been on display since last morning, and he was sick and tired of showing how weak and vulnerable he was.

He was helped back to bed, legs placed into the good old stirrups as it once more was time to check the progress. Rodney could feel the pressure of Carson's fingers inside him and daftly wondered how it would feel when an actual baby's head was travelling down his anus. He wouldn't be able to sit for weeks!

A new frown of worry was etched into the brow of Carson Beckett. Rodney suspected the last twenty four hours had added an extra five years to the man's face, as he was scrunching his face up in concern none stop.

"I need you to stop pushing for now, Rodney," he told him quietly.

"I'm sorry what?! Isn't pushing the only thing that's supposed to get this out of me?!" Rodney barked incredulously.

"Yes. But the artificial womb's fusion with the... exterior wall feels quite weak. I need you to let your body do all the work for now, and for you to try to relax until the baby's position doesn't threaten your colon from tearing."

"Oh, come on!" Rodney wailed: "I'll be stuck like this for hours!"

"I know..." Carson looked like he was about to burst into tears. "But pushing right now may cause you to bleed to death..."

Bloody fucking marvellous!

________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was helped to turn over to his side, a position that might slow down hard contractions and prevent tearing. It felt wrong to deny the urge to work with the contractions and just stand back like this, and Rodney was biting deep into the pillow to keep from screaming.

The nausea returned for full force. His fever spiked, a migraine joined to keep the other plagues company and utter misery turned into utter agony. No one was allowed to touch him, let alone talk to him; they were shoved away with a roar. He had to use all his concentration and willpower not to do what his entire body was screaming at him to do.

He greedily accepted another doze of Nitrous Oxide and sucked it down like it was the last air on earth. But the effect was disappointing, he hardly felt relaxed at all at this state. He threw a tired glare at John who was still sitting by his bedside and noticed the five o clock shadow growing on his chin. Both he and Carson looked dog tired, but at this stage it only infuriated Rodney. He had been in labour for over twenty four hours! How dared they sit there and look miserable when all they had to do was watch?!

He watched as John got to his feet, touching the earpiece as he received a message through the intercom. He watched as the Colonel's face went from drained to almost ecstatic within seconds.

"Good news, Rodney!" he cheered: "Jeannie's arrived SG1 back on earth. She'll be transported here when both gates and the midway are up and running."

"That's wonderful news!" Carson joined in on the jubilation and patted Rodney's dripping hair in an overconfident act of support.

"DON'T touch me!" Rodney snarled. His hands clenched into fists, and Carson took the hint and moved away.

"John, why don't you go upstairs and act as a welcoming committee?" Carson suggested with a crooked smile plastered all over his face. "Be sure to tell her about how well Rodney's doing," he warned.


	18. Jack In The Box

**Chapter 18 Jack In The Box**

John was only too happy to comply to Carson's suggestion to act as a welcome committee for Jeannie and left the infirmary just as Rodney doubled over with a new set of contractions. The agonised grunts and groans echoed in his ears as he entered the transporter, and he silently wondered if he ever would be able to look at Rodney the same after this. Not that he was any less of a man, but he had been through so much the last months. The wall of self confidence that was Rodney McKay had been stripped down brick after brick until nothing was left but the naked truth about a man who had always taken pride in his air of superiority.

He arrived at the control room just as Elizabeth activated the gate. It had taken her quite a few diplomatic twists and turns to gain access to gate travel for a mere civilian. The official story was that Rodney McKay was life threatening ill and that he had expressed a wish to hand some of his latest discoveries over to his sister who would be able to continue his work in case he deceased. Needless to say Richard Woolesy wasn't too pleased with the idea, but the idea of maybe loosing valuable research in the process nudged his decision the right way.

"Incoming wormhole," a voice reported and John watched the gate glow into life as the event horizon appeared in the gate's perfect circle.

"Colonel Sheppard, come in!" Lorne's voice sparked in John's ear.

"This is Sheppard, spill!" John replied as Elizabeth ordered to lower the shield.

"Bjorn the Wraith has disappeared from the morgue, I repeat Bjorn the wraith has disappeared from the morgue!"

"Shut down the gate!" John yelled, just as Jeannie Miller stepped through the iris. She was yanked into safety as the stargate was promptly shut down at Sheppard's orders.

"What was that all about?!" Elizabeth demanded.

"Apparently Bjorn the Wraith isn't as dead as desired," John snarled through gritted teeth. "We need to increase security in the gate room and send a team to hunt him down. And we'd better place a security team to stand guard outside the infirmary as well, just to be on the safe side."

"You're right," Elizabeth agreed.

"Major Lorne, come in!" Sheppard barked into the intercom: "Since my team's disabled for the moment your team will lead the search party, while I organize the security both here and by the infirmary."

"Affirmative, Colonel!" Lorne replied: "We found the remains of a civilian outside the morgue, he'll be strong and damn near impossible to kill!"

"Well, he has resurrected _before_," John barked back. "This time you will empty your weapons on him!"

"Affirmative, over and out!" Lorne replied.

"You know, you guys act as a lousy welcoming committee!" a female voice barked from the floor below. John stopped mid sentence and looked down. There was Rodney's sister, teary eyed and looking miserable, probably anxious to get to her brother.

"Ah, Jeannie! Sorry!" he apologized: "We have a little situation going on..."

"Well, _I_ have a situation going on as well!" she started, but jumped backwards as something caught here eye out of sight for John. Her eyes widened with fear and she started to step backwards one step after another, until a shadow fled over the floor and a figure with white ragged hair grabbed her by the neck and positioned her between him and the control bridge.

"BJORN," John snarled. He was slowly reaching for his service arm.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Bjorn smirked. "If you want this lovely lady to live I suggest you take me to Rodney McKay. He still has something of mine."

"You know we'll never allow you to leave Atlantis alive, and with a hostage at that!" Elizabeth told him firmly.

"Oh, we'll see," the wraith replied and placed a hand on Jeannie's chest. Poor Jeannie was trembling all over, tears poring as she struggled to get free.

"You're a wraith, aren't you," she whimpered.

"That's right my dear, and you're my trading card in this little game Sheppard and I am playing," he sniggered.

"You know I've fed recently. There's no way you'll be able to kill me before I kill this pretty young thing and others as well," Bjorn continued: "Now, take me to Rodney McKay!"

John and Elizabeth exchanged looks. Bjorn was right. He would be able to kill Jeannie and escape, even with an emptied firearm lodged into his body.

"Rodney's in no state to have visitors of the extra terrestrial kind right now," John mumbled, for Elizabeth's ears only.

"We may have no choice," Elizabeth replied in grave tone, then addressed the wraith: "What if I offer you free passage through the stargate, to an address of your choice, without the object you require?"

"Then we would be halfway there, wouldn't we?" the wraith answered: "But I'm not leaving without my property!"

"Can't you just give him this... property?" Jeannie wailed. She was terrified and desperate to get to her brother.

"Yes, why don't you just give me my property?" Bjorn agreed as a horrible smile formed on his lips.

"Carson, what's your status?" John growled into the intercom.

"My status?!" Carson barked back: "An army of armed marines just went through the infirmary looking for wraiths! Rodney's fuckin' terrified!"

Shit...

"Carson, listen very carefully: Bjorn's still alive..."

"WHAT?!" it squealed into his ear.

"...and he's taken Jeannie captive. He demands me to take him down to the infirmary to collect you know what..."

"What the hell am I going to tell Rodney?!" it wheezed, barely audible.

"I... don't... know!" John wheezed back.

"John..." Elizabeth grabbed his arm and turned his attention back down to the floor below. The wraith pushed the palm of his hand firmer to Jeannie's chest and she threw her head back, screaming as he started to suck the life out of her.

"All right, all right!" John screamed: "I'll take you there!" The wraith lowered his hand, the foul grin still on his lips. Jeannie's knees buckled under her, but she was held up with the wraith's free arm.

"Shall we?" he implied.

"You get a hold of Lorne," John mumbled to Elizabeth as he went past her towards the stairs.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Carson shut down the intercom, unable to face Rodney who was roaring at him mid contraction, demanding to know what was going on.

He could see the guards placed outside the door and ran over to prepare them for the wraith that was heading towards the infirmary with a hostage. That was the easy part. Now he had to go back into the infirmary and face an infuriated and petrified Rodney McKay.

Rodney looked like his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets and his fears got the better of him when he discovered the anxiety in Carson's face.

"You... better... tell... me," he stopped to catch his breath: "...what's going... on, or... so help... me..!"

"All right, all right!" Carson waved his arms in the air: "But you need to calm down first!" He went over to his bed and was yanked collar wise within striking distance of Rodney.

"I'm... CALM..!" he breathed, his eyes burning.

"Good, good," Carson soothed, tugging carefully at his collar. "Now. If you just ease up on the grip there, tiger…"

Rodney snarled.

"Or not..." Carson agreed: "the thing is... We might have a wraith raised from the dead situation going on, but nothing to fret upon..."

"It's not..?" Rodney looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"It might be Bjorn, yes..." Carson admitted and watched all colour drain for Rodney's face.

"And... he might have taken Jeannie hostage to get to you..." He let out a silent sigh of relief as Rodney let go of his collar.

"Jeannie..." Rodney's breath grew even more ragged, and the monitors above his head started beeping as his pulse started to climb. His hand searched frantically for Carson's and squeezed it tight, despair mingling with pain as new contractions set in.

They both turned their heads as John Sheppard walked slowly into the room, looking over his shoulder with poorly hidden loathe on his face as Bjorn the wraith followed him inside with Jeannie locked in a death grip.

"Rodney!" Jeannie tried to break free from the wraith's grip but was almost choked in the process.

"Easy there, Bjorn!" John urged.

"Jeannie!" Rodney's face was all anguish. His eyes darted between his sister and the wraith.

"Let her go!" he ordered, the anger in his voice was seething. Carson was afraid he might get an actual aneurism.

"Ah, McKay, we meet again." Bjorn made a courteous bow. "I see you still have what's mine."

"Yeah, there's one really bad flaw in that little plan of yours," Rodney snarled: "men aren't supposed to give birth!"

"Oh, you're coming along quite nicely I take it," Bjorn replied with a smirk. He arched forwards, still using Jeannie as a human shield. Carson turned himself into Rodney's.

"Stop right there, Bjorn!" he ordered. "My patient's in a frail state and must not be agitated at this point!"

Bjorn tilted his head to the side, looking at Carson like he was an irksome fly.

"You humans," he muttered: "your bravery is wasted on the unworthy and coward." Carson knew by Rodney's sharp inhale of air that the comment had stung. But then he noticed a shadow creep through the doorway behind the wraith. Major Lorne was sneaking inside the room, gun armed and ready, slowly coming up behind Bjorn.

"Coward?" Carson spat: "The only coward I see in this room is hiding behind a woman!"

"I simply take my precautions," Bjorn replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Carson took a step forward.

"Then you won't mind us trading spaces, now would you?" he stated, feeling his own heartbeat run amok in his chest. If anyone was a coward in this room it was him. He would rather hide in a corner under such circumstances than be the one trying to be brave. He approached the wraith and turned his back to him, making it easier for him to trade him for Jeannie.

"I guess it's only appropriate you get to say goodbye to this human you seem so fond of," Bjorn growled into Jeannie's ear and shoved her towards the bed. At the same second Carson whirled around and attacked Bjorn with all his body weight. The attack came as a surprise to the wraith but he soon had Carson in a choke hold.

"Shoot him!" Carson coughed "Don't mind me, shoot him!"

The wraith whirled around, bringing Carson with him just as a single shot was fired. It went straight through Carson's side and into the wraith. Bjorn roared and tossed Carson aside like a rag doll, as he turned and headed straight for the bed where Rodney and Jeannie was witnessing it all with terrified eyes. Another shot was fired and it went straight into the back of the wraith's head where it exploded, turning the furious wraith's head into mincemeat. The wraith fell to the ground, still writhing around. Major Lorne calmly went over and placed four more bullets into the wraith's body until it stopped moving.

"This time I'll cremate the fucker!" he stated and calmly grabbed the wraith's foot and dragged him out of the infirmary as if he was getting rid of a tiny spider.

Carson watched it all in dazed confusion, slowly realising blood was gushing out of his gut.

"Dr. Keller, come in!" John yelled through the intercom as he rushed over and knelt beside Carson.

"Dr. Beckett has been shot! He's bleeding pretty badly!"

"Apply pressure, lad," Carson told him meekly as John was helping him to lie down. He could hear Rodney shouting in the background, and barely registered that the colonel was pushing down towards his wound. Rodney was safe. Nothing else mattered. The colours turned grey and he closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rodney watched Carson getting wheeled away for surgery with Keller running behind him shouting orders. Then she turned and shot Rodney a helpless look, before she watched the bed with Carson disappear around the corner.

"We're the only two MDs at Atlantis. When I go into surgery I have nothing but a nurse to offer you."

"Go... save... Carson..!" Rodney gasped and denied himself the urge to push. She nodded, and left.

Jeannie was all over him with wet rags and comforting words.

"You're doing a great job, Rodney, you can do this!" she cheered. Rodney looked at her with a mixture of sadness and appreciation in his eyes.

"Thank you... for coming," he muttered, his eyes threatening to betray him as he surrendered and buried himself in the warm embrace of his sister.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" he sobbed. "Carson..."

"I know, Rodney, I know," Jeannie whispered into his hair. "Carson's strong. He'll pull through this!"

"But what if..." he started, but was hushed to silence.

"Just breathe, Rodney. Just breathe."

He breathed. He went limp in her arms and he breathed.

As Dr. Keller was busy in the surgery John Sheppard was shuttled back and forth between the make shift maternity ward and the surgery, giving Keller the updates on the latest readings on Rodney McKay, and bringing news about Carson back to Rodney who was anxious for any news regarding his best friend.

Although a major artery and his liver had been graced, Carson had been incredibly lucky. Major Lorne's service arm had been loaded with six dum dum bullets, each and single one designed to explode on impact. The first dum dum bullet had passed straight through Carson Beckett's body and into the wraith, without exploding, something that happened in once every thousandth times.

When looking at the facts Carson Beckett should be dead. He had wrestled with a wraith, thrown himself into the line of fire knowing full well he would die if he was hit with one of the bullets Lorne was carrying. Still he hadn't hesitated. He had given his life willingly.

Moira the nurse was monitoring Rodney's progress, and she was on strict order from Keller to continue to discourage him from pushing on further notice. Rodney would have to let his body do the work for him until it would be safe for him to start pushing himself. That slowed the process down considerably, but as long as the baby wasn't showing any signs of stress it was the safest thing to do.

Major Lorne had incinerated the wraith, leaving no trace behind this time. It was next to incredible how the wraith had regenerated the first time, and he was taking no chances.

Back in the infirmary Ronon had woken, and by his side was Teyla who occupied the bed next to him. Radek and Elizabeth had also joined them in a silent wait for news about Carson and Rodney.

All they could do now, was wait.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's one more chapter to go, but a second installment is in the works. Rodney McKay is just too fun/annoying to write. ;) I need to flesh out the story a bit more though, before I start posting here, but maaaybe a little preview should be in order? ;)

- Restina


	19. Battles

**Finally... After a computer crash and total loss of the final chapter and the first stumbling attempts to write a sequal I've gathered the pieces and present to you- the final chapter of "And Beneath There Was Velvet". There may be a small epilogue to follow this later at some point. I hope you all haven't waited in vain.**

**Hugs, and a merry christmas to you all from Restina**

**Chapter 15, Battles**

The hours slowly trickled by as the entire Atlantis was waiting. Carson Beckett was in surgery, where Jennifer Keller was fighting for his life, and in the more secluded part of the infirmary Rodney McKay was fighting the battle of his life.

He was bloody starving. No matter the pain he was suffering, his stomach was still able to report its distress for not having been fed in 36 hours. The Intravenous fluids that were administered directly to his blood flow via a vein catheter in his hand did nothing to calm a growling belly. After half an hour's desperate begging he was finally handed a power bar with Keller's blessings to eat it. Rodney wolfed it down, and threw it back up when contractions hit moments later.

Carson was still in surgery, two hours had passed since he threw himself at a wraith for Rodney and Jeannie's sake. A typically courageous thing to do from a man who normally considered himself a coward. Rodney was growing desperate to hear more news about him, and John was running his ass off sending messages between the infirmary and the surgery.

There would be no rest for Keller when she was finished with surgery, Rodney and the never-ending delivery was next on the list. He could feel how the position of the baby slowly shifted, his body slowly coaxing it out, millimetre by millimetre. It was frustrating not to be allowed to participate in this, to hold back when every nerve in his body told him to bare down and push with every contraction that soared through his body. Soon he wouldn't give a rat's ass about Keller's instructions and push either way. He knew he was slowly slipping out of time...

He was dozing off between contractions when his ears picked up a hushed discussion between Moira and Sheppard.

"The baby's heart rate is dropping. We need to get this baby out. I can't let him hold back any longer."

"All right, I'll go notify Keller," John replied: "You take care of Rodney."

He opened his eyes and stared right into the scared face of his little sister Jeannie.

"Rodney," she told him in a trembling voice: "Moira tells me you can start pushing now. We're going to help you adjust your legs and back a little so that it will be easier for you to push the baby out."

"About... bloody... time," Rodney responded as the well-known pressure was building inside his body again. It felt like a ton of weight was pressing on his pelvis, mixed with the worst constipated feeling he could imagine, and when he finally was able to bear down he was pretty certain his nether regions was being torn apart.

He bore down, again, and again, roaring with pain and frustration as it felt like he was burning alive. He couldn't care less about he danger of tearing, all he cared about now was finishing what he had started. He had carried this little impostor for nine long months, his hole world had changed for this tiny human being to arrive safely to this world so there was no way he was going to let him down now. Although he'd never been closer to the finish line he felt like it was further away than ever. Keller came running just as something was starting to emerge between his thighs and made him groan with agony. He was going to die. No one could survive this!

"How's.. Carson..!" he gasped and decided to forget about his own private hell for a moment. Keller looked dog tired, but confident.

"He's going to be fine, Rodney. He lost a lot of blood, but he's out of the woods," she told him, and a warm smile made her eyes display a seldom beauty that Rodney never had noticed before.

"But now I see we have a baby to deliver!" Her face went serious and down to business again as she turned over to Moira who'd been the temp midwife while Keller had been in surgery.

"The head is crowning!" Moira reported as Jennifer Keller stripped off her surgical scrubs and dived between his legs.

John Sheppard strolled into the room, took one look at what was going on and fainted into a graceful heap of limbs.

"Cow..ard!" Rodney gasped, baring his teeth as he bore down, again and again, working on raw primal instinct.

"Wonderful, Rodney! Now ease up between the contractions," Keller coaxed, putting a hand on top of his bulging stomach. Rodney groaned, tossing his head meekly from side to side as he felt the baby's head slip inside again.

"No," he moaned: "I need... to... keep... pushing..!"

"This is perfectly normal Rodney, the next set of contractions will help you extract the entire head. Breathe, Rodney. Big breaths," she instructed. He grabbed Jeannie's hand, face and body drenched with sweat as he tried to gather his breath. Jeannie was smiling and weeping at the same time.

"You're almost there, Rodney, almost there!" she cooed, stroking his hair and not letting go of his bewildered gaze. The urge to push awoke once more with a roar, and Rodney could feel the burning pressure as he was pushing with every trembling nerve of his body.

"The head is crowning, Rodney. Push, push, push!" Keller urged and had his entire body arch with tension as the baby slowly was working his way to the surface. There was a slight decrease to the pressure as the head finally slipped out, and Rodney's head dropped back to the pillow, gasping for air.

John Sheppard awoke, took a gander at the head that had emerged from Rodney's body and promptly fainted again.

"You're doing great, Rodney. The head is out, and with the next contraction I will coax the shoulder free so that the rest of the baby's body will follow quite easily." Keller told him calmly.

Quite easily... Rodney almost wished he had the strength to fire off a snarky remark. But there was only one thing left in his mind now. As the final set of contractions hit him like a sledgehammer it felt like he was ripped apart from one side to the other while passing something the size of a basketball through an opening the size of a grape.

He roared as he used his every last reserve and bore down. A sizzling pain soared through him when the baby's shoulder finally slipped out and made it easier for Keller to help him deliver the rest of the baby. Rodney almost cried in surprise when he felt a warm mass slip out of him and the massive pressure he'd been feeling the last days evaporated like it'd never been there at all. He fell back, shaking with tremors and closed his eyes to hide the world of emotions that flushed through his body like a tidal wave.

"The baby.. Is it.. all right?" he panted, sucking down air into oxygen deprived lungs. No one answered. He opened his eyes with a new kind of fear growing in his mind. He saw Keller working on a tiny body a few meters away, clearing airways and rubbing a puny chest.

"Oh no," he whispered, watching in terror as Keller's attempts grew more intense. She leaned down and breathed air down into small lungs. Jeannie was crying silently, squeezing his hand as she watched the doctor fight against the clock. The room was dead silent, nothing but the sounds of Keller breathing air down into the baby's lungs disturbed the desperate wait.

Then a pin sharp wail pierced the silence like a balloon, and the tiny body started to squirm around in Keller's grip. Rodney let out an astonished cry of relief and was overwhelmed by agonised sobs moments later. He hid his face, feeling utterly naked as raw emotions soared through his body and he was unable to hide them. Jeannie kissed his forehead and murmured words of love and encouragement. The baby was sporting a good set of lungs, and he sounded infuriated, his cries bouncing off the walls.

Rodney felt like the world had been turned inside out and couldn't understand why this moment was making such a deep impact on him. A few months ago he'd even considered suicide in his darker moments, and here he was now, grateful that the source of his last months of misery was alive and well.

"Rodney," Keller murmured moments later, her face beaming as she walked over to the bed: "This little guy wants to say hello to his daddy." Before he knew it a warm, damping mass of wailing baby was placed on top of his chest. Rodney's breath hitched as he felt the little one settle down towards his flesh, he saw a tiny head sporting a mop of bushy blonde hair, and there.. there was a tiny little face and two blue eyes peering up at him. At him. And Rodney peered back, eyes squinting in disbelief that this perfect human being could have been growing inside him.

"Hi there, little fellow," he whispered. He looked at Jeannie for a second, eyes shining.

"You did it, brother. He's beautiful!" she murmured, stroking the little one's cheek with a trembling finger. A proud smile grew on his face as he watched the baby yawn and stretch, flailing lazily with tiny arms and legs until it settled once more towards a warm chest and the security of his father's pulse.

"I'm your daddy," he whispered, only for the baby to hear. A miniature hand lodged a tight grip around his index finger and heart.

"Hold on, little one. I'll never let you go," Rodney murmured, tears of exhaustion and something so much more running down his cheeks. Finally it was all clear to him.

* * *

Rodney McKay had given birth. John silently wondered if hell had indeed frozen over. But then he saw him with the little one in his arms, saw the lost look of pure and all consuming love beaming from the man's eyes, and knew that Rodney had become someone entirely different. Rodney McKay had become a father.

The baby was as perfect as a baby could be, with ten fingers and toes, but what was really endearing was a tiny, crooked mouth and big, soulful eyes.

John had three particularly nasty bumps on the back of his head to add to his concussion, the latest was added when he awoke to the delivery of a gooey mass of something Keller called the placenta. Needless to say, he was returned to bed rest in the infirmary. The irony of it all as his eyes trailed around the room he discovered that his entire Alpha team were gathered in the same room. There was Ronon, patched up and grinning, Teyla was resting in the bed next to him with a bandage on her head, and in the far end of the room Carson was still recovering after surgery, sleeping an anesthetise induced sleep. And soon Rodney would join them after some checkups of him and the baby. Baby!

It had been a crazy couple of days- that was for sure.

* * *

Carson awoke two days later, groggy and confused. The first one to greet him back among the living and awake was Rodney who seemed to be occupying the nearest bed.

"Hi there, sleepy head!" he greeted and climbed out of bed with awkward movements. He sat down, very tenderly, by Carson's bedside.

"I won't be able to sit properly for months!" he nagged, but with a cheerful smile on his face. Carson blinked, and watched the blurry image of Rodney lean closer.

"Thank you."

"Huh?" Carson mumbled.

"Thank you, Carson. For saving my life."

"I did?" Carson muttered, trying hard to remember how he got into this bed in the first place. It slowly came back to him, Rodney going into labour, the wraith attack, another wraith attack, him playing Batman, trying to save the day..

"I jumped in front of a wraith, Rodney. It was hardly heroic," he grunted.

"You may have thrown yourself between me and a crazy wraith, but you saved me much earlier than that." The softness in Rodney's voice was fathomless and made the pain in his side insignificant. A warm hand embraced his and made all the choices he had ever made in his life correct, because they had been leading him up to this precise moment. A simple touch to Rodney, but so much more to Carson Beckett.

After a long and tender moment laced with sweet silence and nothing but unspoken appreciation Carson was awake and alert enough to sit up. Rodney helped him by propping pillows behind his back and adjusting the bed.

How are you? Carson asked. He gave Rodney a thorough look. He looked tired, drained and worn, but there was a rare air of content lingering over him he d never seen before.

I m fine, considering, Rodney told him, eyes smiling. I needed a few stitches and a blood transfusion, and I m on antibiotics to fight a small infection. It hurts when I do anything, and don t even get me started on how it feels to you know what..! But other than that and the mental scars I have achieved after actually giving birth, I m completely peachy.

And the baby..? He finally dared to address what had been on his mind since he woke up.

It s a bouncing Mini McKay, Keller confirmed it with a blood test yesterday. 7,5 pounds, 20 inches and huge lungs, Rodney reported. Can you believe it? Another me! An exact copy, down to the smallest cell! It s quite freaky really, he added, and his face became unreadable.

I wish I could have seen him before you Carson cut himself off, afraid he might reopen a fresh wound.

Before I what? Rodney tilted his head in confusion.

You know before you gave him away.

Carson Rodney begun, but was interrupted.

I m sorry, Rodney. I didn t mean to make this any harder for you than it already is.

Listen, Rodney tried.

I m sure you ve picked a lovely couple to adopt him and that he ll have a good life, filled with love and appreciation. Rodney placed a gentle hand over his lips to shut him up.

I couldn t, he said and let go.

You couldn t what? Carson blinked in confusion.

I couldn t give him away, Carson.

Oh. His heart skipped a beat and tears welled up in his eyes. Rodney McKay had grown so much during the last months, but never in his wildest dreams Carson had even dared to hope he would accept and commit to an opportunity like this.

Don t you go all misty eyed on me, you old git! Rodney warned him: It s still not too late to find a nice couple! I know nothing about babies, how to hold them, how to feed them, how to calm them, how to...

You ll learn! And I ll help you! Carson urged, waving his hands frantically.

Of course you will, you re his Godfather after all! Rodney told him with a smirk.

I m I m what?! Carson was gob smacked. He silently wondered if he had been warped into a different dimension.

So, Rodney s eye s twinkled mischievously: "are you ready to meet your Godson?"

"Aye, Rodney, I am," Carson murmured. He dried his eyes with shaking hands as he watched Rodney walk over to the other side of his bed. Moments later he returned with a squirming bundle in his arms. Rodney s entire posture changed with this tiny being cradled in his arms. His face was beaming the way any new parent was supposed to, but with a rare grace that enhanced the beauty in his eyes as he looked down on the little one in his arms.

Carson had never seen him look more at peace.

"Carson Beckett, meet Aed n McKay." He placed the baby boy gently into his arms, making sure Carson supported his head.

"Hello Aed n," Carson marvelled and looked down on a perfect copy of Rodney.

"It's Gaelic," Rodney told him. "I thought it was only fair."

"It's a great honour, Rodney," Carson replied, pride painting his words.


	20. Epilogue Never The Same

EPILOGUE_

Reality hit Rodney smack in the face the day he was discharged from the infirmary. No more nurses who made sure he supported the little one's neck, helped him feed Aed n the right way, reminded him to change his diapers at regular intervals and who borrowed the baby when Rodney was about ready to drop from exhaustion. Who would've believed such a tiny tot demanded so much attention.

Together with this huge new responsibility in an already crammed professional life Rodney was struggling with the aftermath of the unusual circumstances of his son's creation and birth. His body and mind had been going through immense changes during the course of nine months that came to a painful conclusion in a makeshift maternity ward. The two weeks spent in the infirmary recovering from the phsyical trauma got him back to his feet, but did less to nothing for his mental state. In the infirmary he felt safe around Aed n, knowing they were both cared for and supervised by professionals. The day he was gently nudged out the infirmary doors by a know-it-all Keller he had to bite his tongue not to beg her to keep him there for another week.

"But what if I forget to feed him or something?" he squealed, looking completely helpless as he peered down on the sleeping baby in his arms.

"Trust me, Rodney: You won't!" Jennifer told him reassuringly. "You'll help each other figure it out, just you wait and see," she murmured and her smile was adressed to both father and son. Rodney swallowed, put on a brave face and trudged down the hallways heading for his quarters.

* * *

He had a pet hamster once. It died. Needless to say, caring for a baby scared the living daylights out of Rodney McKay. Sure, he'd run an entire household by the age of six, but that was decades ago and didn't realy relate to the immense responsibility of taking care of a newborn baby.

His friends had prepared his quarters for the new arrival, and they were waiting for him when he took his first stumbling steps into single parenthood. Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon, John and Carson greeted him with murmurs of appreciation and support.

"Radek sends his best wishes," Teyla told him: "He wanted to be here for your return, but there was an emergency down in the..."

"Let's not dwell on the details, shall we?" Elizabeth interjected as Rodney's eyebrows shot to the roof.

"Welcome home, daddy McKay!" John Sheppard cheered as Rodney took a few hesitant steps around in what had become "baby-central" since the last time he'd set foot in his quarters.

"Wow!" he gaped, looking at a tiny cradle, a crib, stacks of baby clothing and other remedies apparently crucial for any parent and child.

"I was able to get the whole works!" John continued, a proud grin radiating from his eyes as he noticed Rodney's flabbergasted face. No doubt John would've turned heads when he was back on earth, robbing the nearest NoMi Boutique for every garment, item and thingiemabob ever created to fulfill the needs of tiny human beings.

"Actually, he wanted to get the De-Luxe Breast Pump as well, but I was able to stop him," Carson chimed in with a boyish smile on his face. Rodney was grateful to see the doctor up and about again, and was blissfully ignorant to the perspiration on the man's brow and the crouching posture that told their tale of Carson's physical state at the moment.

"May I?" Teyla shot out from nowhere reaching out towards the sleeping infant in his arms. Rodney looked at her like a twit for a few seconds until he realised what she wanted.

"Oh, yeah... sure!" he handed the baby over to her arms, hating the silent sigh of relief that whispered through his body.

"I have a little present for you as well," Carson admitted, and limped over the floor towards a parcel placed on Rodney's bed. "I thought this would help you get started, you know when you're ready to get back to work."

"I'm ready!" Rodney exclaimed, a little louder than intended. Aed n squirmed in Teyla's arms and made a squeaky noise.

"Easy there, tiger!" John put a firm palm on his chest. "You will have to go through a complete physical with Keller first."

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney muttered, shooing the Colonel away. He went over to the bed and picked up the gift. Like most children he ripped the paper off to get to the good stuff, but he ended up looking like a question mark.

"It's a baby carrier!" Carson explained cheerily. Rodney's face softened in realization for a second, until his eyes latched onto the product name.

"A Baby BJORN?! You've got to be kidding me!" he barked. "You want me to drag my newborn son around in *this* device?! Why don't you buy me a Wraith Cradle and some Irratiusbug- pacifiers at the same time?!!"

"Nice one, Carson!" Sheppard agreed, giving the doctor two thumbs up. There was nothing like a little irony. Carson looked aboslutely mortified for a moment, then straightened his back as far as it would let him and stood up for himself.

"It's the best baby carrier on the market, Rodney, and it will work as a nice way for you to keep him close. It's designed to support Aed n's neck while he's too weak to support it himself, and it's fully adjustable so that Aed n will stay comfortable and safe as he grows. You'll be able to do most of your chores at the same time as you make sure the little lad's close and safe."

"But, it's a Baby BJORN!" Rodney punctuated, stating his distress.

"Here," Ronon stepped forward with a permanent marker in his hand, ripped the baby carrier out of Rodney's hands and scribbled something over the brand name: "now it's a Baby Brad!" He shoved the device back in Rodney's hands.

"Oh, well.. great!" Rodney muttered, rolling his eyes.

* * *

A few weeks later

"Carson, I can't do this! I quit!" Rodney McKay came charging through the door with a screaming infant in his arms. The baby boy was sporting an impressive set of lungs and he wasn't afraid to use them. Rodney launched a furious attack by pacing on the floor at the same time as he was rocking the baby in his arms. He was the sweaty, desperate mess of three weeks worth of sleepdeprivement.

"Calm down, Rodney," Carson soothed and reached out for the bundle in Rodney's arms. Rodney looked down on a tiny face that was scrunched up in a furious grimace, and his eyes ran over with raw desperation.

"I feed him, I change him, I burp him, I bathe him.. I even read him dull little stories over the intercom while I'm trying to work! But he screams, and screams and screams and screams, he sleeps for like a second, and then he starts screaming again, and after four hours of none stop wailing I just want to slam him into the wall!" Rodney confessed with a wild glare in his eyes as the baby continued his airsirene drill.

"I'm terrible at this, I'm a terrible father! He'd be better off with Bjorn the Wraith as a fosterdad," he continued with a voice so on the verge of cracking that the vindows in Carson's quarters actually quivered from the strain.

"PLEASE stop screaming, Aedan, PLEEEASE!!!" he urged the raging bundle still clutched neatly towards his chest.

"Rodney..."

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this! God, I'm gonna scar this little guy for life! You should have talked me out of it, Carson! You knew I would mess this up!"

Carson grabbed Rodney by the shoulders and guided him gently towards the bed where he sat him down.

"You're doing just fine. You have a colicky baby, that's all. His tummy hurts and this is his way of letting you know," he told him gently and once more reached out his arms towards the baby. But Rodney's face contorted and he broke into gutwrenching sobs.

"He's in pain, and there's nothing I can do about it!" he wailed. "I'm the worst father in the universe!"

"You're not the first, and you will definetly not be the last parent with a colicky baby," Carson told him: "And you're doing exactly what you should do, you hold him, you soothe him, you comfort him. He can smell you, hear you and he can feel the warmth of your body. That's everything he needs. He can't help from crying, but I promise you he wouldn't be in any other arms right now."

Rodney looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Let me proove it," Carson told him and reached out for the baby a third time. Rodney hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly handed the baby over to the doctor. For a split second Aed n went completely silent, then he opened his eyes to peer up on Carson before his face once more dissolved into a huge black hole of howls.

"Oh God, now he's even louder!" Rodney moaned, tearing his hair in pure agony.

"Prescicely," Carson told him calmly: "he feels insecure without his daddy to hold him when he's in pain." Rodney's eyes went huge.

"Do you really think..." he started then threw his arms out like a mad man.

"Give him back!"

Carson transferred the baby back to Rodney's arms and noticed how Aed n's terrified howls settled into a constant wail again.

"See?" he murmured. "Your arms is the best place for him right now."

"But isn't there anything I can do for him? He's just a tiny little squirt,it's unfair to have a little baby go through such agony!" Rodney muttered, rocking the little one in his arms.

"There's a lot to be said about colic," Carson sighed: "Noone really knows what the condition originates from, and it ususally lasts until the baby is about three, four months old. Traditionally, colic was ascribed to abdominal pain resulting from trapped gas in the digestive tract. The theory is not yet discredited, and some recent scientific evidence seems to support it, yet it is no longer universally accepted as the general cause. There is solid and mounting evidence that the causes are related to gut flora, from multiple studies which have shown that colicky babies have different gut flora patterns, which includes a lack of Lactobacillus acidophilus..."

"Enough voodoo MD babble," Rodney cut him off: "How do we treat it?!"

"It varies from baby to baby," Carson sighed, wishing he had a magic button he could push: "But the most important thing for this particular little guy," he beamed down towards the raging infant in Rodney's arms: "is close physical contact with his daddy. Give him a pacifier, rock him in your arms, soothe him, and when he calms down- place him on your chest so he can feel your heartbeat."

A terrified, but satsified groan shuddered through Rodney's tired exterior and his face went soft as he looked down at the still crying baby in his arms.

"I love him, he means the world to me," he muttered: "But I can't remember the last time I had a solid night's sleep. And as Head of the Science department and leader of countless incompetent engineers and scientists it's a... handful at times..."

"You should let us help out more, Rodney. You have enough on your plate as it is with handling the city's powersupplies and doing constant research on Ancient technology and what not."

"And off world missions, I'm a viable asset there to!" Rodney added, chin importantly in the air.

"Aye, those too," Carson murmured. "Why don't you two stay here for a while, keep me company?"

"You want me and the "Scream Machine" here?!" Rodney had a doubtful look on his face. Carson's smile seemed to settle his mind though.

Carson gladly endured two hours of shrill wails bouncing off the walls and Rodney's desperate efforts of calming his son down. But the doctor's presence seemed to have a calming effect on the scientist who's shoulders slacked and retreated from the close encounter with his ears. When Aed n finally calmed down Rodney slumped down on Carson's bed and his back found rest towards the wall.

"I'm just gonna savour this moment for a few seconds," he yawned: "then I'll head back... to my quarters." Carson watched how Rodney's head started to droop and how his arms instinctively cradled little Aed n to keep him safe.

Needless to say, Rodney McKay fell asleep on Carson's bed with a peaceful baby boy resting on his chest. Carson watched the sleeping duo with adoration in his eyes before he carefully helped the slumbering Rodney achieve a more comfortable position on his back. Aed n was now sound asleep, reading his father's slow and steady heartbeat and knowing by instinct that this was nap time for the both of them.

Atlantis was never going to be the same ever again, and Carson wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
